He's Alright
by Kawaii Kisu
Summary: We had our share of ups and a heavy share of downs. And eighty percent of the time all I wanted to do was shank him with a bendy straw. But I figured, in the end, this guy? He's alright. Companion to "He Gets It"
1. Shot Heard 'Round the World

**Author's Note:** I couldn't wait. I started the first two chapters last week and I really couldn't wait. I don't even know if this first chapter's interesting enough. My original plan was to wait until "He Gets It" was finished, but I need my dose of AkuRoku now. As the summary said, this is a companion to "He Gets It." You don't really have to read one to understand the other, so for those of you new to the storyline don't fret! Start in whichever order you want.

For those of you who aren't new to the story, I just wanted to say that you might spend the first few…well, several chapters still angry at Roxas and Axel. This is a jump _backward_ in the storyline, so some scenes will be repeated. Hopefully you'll enjoy it just as much. Thanks as always for reading!

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><p><strong>Roxas; I Used to Hide Away and Only Try to Save Myself<strong>

"_Why?"_

"_Why?"_

"_Why, Sora?" I shake my head at him. I shake my head and I just keep thinking 'why' over and over again, because I really don't know what to make of the scene in front of me._

_He's in a skirt and a blouse. A black skirt and a yellow blouse with vertical white stripes. And he's got matching pearl earrings in each ear and gloss on his lips and eye shadow on his face. He has his hair flattened and curled into a short bob. He has eyeliner in his hand and he is about to apply it, but he stops to look at me with this strange expression on his face._

_Ma is still at work, even though it's going on nine at night, so we have the house to ourselves. It isn't the first time Sora's hogged up the upstairs bathroom, but I need to shower and get to bed because I'm tired. But he is just standing there in that outfit and not looking the least bit shameful about it and…_

_I'm sure he's done this before. I can tell that much._

_I shake my head at him. "Why, Sora? Do you just like dressing up as a girl?"_

"_I do."_

"_Why?"_

"_I'm a girl. I am."_

"_No you're not."_

"_Yes I am."_

"_You're fucking weird, you know that. You're really fucking weird. What if Ma finds out?"_

"_P…please don't tell her."_

_And it's weird looking at him because as he speaks I keep thinking that my twin, my brother, actually looks really pretty. He actually looks really good as a girl and it's weird and freaky and I keep wondering why._

_I shake my head again and walk out without another word. Forget the shower._

* * *

><p>That was four years ago. We had been twelve. We had been twelve and it had been two months after Dad's funeral…<p>

See, my relationship with my brother is weird.

Once upon a time we used to be extremely close, inseparable. We did everything together when we were younger. Told each other our secrets, occasionally bathed together—we were toddlers; get your mind out of the gutter—played together whenever we were under the same roof. You see, Ma and Dad couldn't take care of the two of us at first. They got married young and just barely had enough to get a house of their own. They had planned for one child, saved for one child, decorated a nursery for one child. So they were surprised when they found out Sora and I would be twins.

Since they hadn't been financially set to take care of two children at once, Grams stepped in and offered to raise Sora. It wasn't like they were giving him up; they just wanted to wait until they had the resources themselves to raise two children. Even still, our parents made sure Sora and I saw each other every day. They were over at Grams' place more than they were at home; changing diapers, feeding, letting Sora and I toddle around. It was like that for years.

When we turned eight, Dad had come out with his first book. Ma had graduated, was working full time at her campus. Things changed to the point where they could afford a bigger house. So Sora moved in with us for a time, but still went back to Grams most of the time. I guess he had gotten so used to living with her that he preferred it there. He went to the school closest to her area, since the state said he was technically under her supervision. Even though he lives with Ma and me now. Not that anyone minded. That's just how it worked out.

Even though Sora had stayed with Grams for a majority of the time we had been close. We could talk to each other. Times were good when we were younger. And as weird as this is gonna sound, I think puberty ruined it. See, Sora's… He has this thing. I always kind of noticed it, but it didn't really come out until after Dad passed. Until we hit puberty. I knew about it. Ma knew about it. Grams had an inkling.

Sora liked to cross dress.

We hadn't talked about it after that incident. Not for a while.

On our thirteenth birthday I bought him his first bra, because he had wanted to take it a step further.

On our fourteenth birthday he ordered a long-ass wig online behind Ma's back. A wig, and these…silicon things… He used them to stuff his bras. He also started buying his own makeup and jewelry.

By fifteen he was cross dressing more and more often, going out in public as Sora the Girl. He spoke as a girl. He acted like a girl. And since people he met didn't know the truth, they treated him as a girl.

Do you know how freaky that is? Do you know how freakish it is having your brother parade around as a chick, with fake hair and boobs to match, and no one else realizes it? Do you know how freaky it is knowing that, in spite of that, he actually makes a pretty convincing female?

I never told him that. At first I thought it was some weird phase that I could indulge for the time being, but when it didn't stop it started weirding me out to the point where I just stopped talking to Sora completely. It got to the point where, unless you were somehow close to my family, no one I knew was aware that I had a sibling at all. I never mentioned him. I didn't _want _to. So long as people didn't ask, there was no reason to. What if people found out, huh? What did you say to that?

That's why I didn't know how to handle it when Axel met Sora for the first time.

But that's getting a little ahead. I don't want to start with Axel or his relationship with Sora. Jumping right in there won't make much sense in the long run. Because my relationship with him—whatever it was that we had—was beyond complicated. Beyond confusing. Beyond frustrating. Yet I kept going back to him, always…

I'm not going to start with Axel.

No, I'm going back enough for you to get it, for you to follow along. I need you to understand one thing before I can start anywhere else: Things changed after Dad died. Everything changed. It was the shock of it that ruined what our family had.

We're different people now.

My dad and I were close. Very close. As close as a father and son could be. He was the only man in my life that I can openly admit that I loved. (This is before Axel.) There was this bright aura around him all the time, no matter what, and he had this way of drawing you in with just a look. He was the kind of guy that could walk into a room and manage to strike up a conversation with a complete stranger. He was the kind of guy who you ended up calling a close friend after talking with him just once. He was always on his feet doing something, completely devoted to it until it was done. It could be anything.

Sports—he'd taught me everything, how to play basketball and soccer and football and tennis and wrestling. And more. You name it. Sora had never really been into any sports when we were younger, but he would sit off to the side and watch while Dad and I played around in the backyard.

Work—there was never a time where you'd catch Dad without some sort of notebook and pen on his person, where you wouldn't see him writing something or other. He would have been on book three had he lived to finish writing it…

Family—he adored Sora and me, always spent time with us. He worshiped Ma. And I've never seen a couple so in sync with each other, so _in love_ with each other, like Ma and Dad had been. He spoke to and treated Grams as if she was his biological mother, treated our aunt as if she was his real sister and not just an in-law.

Religion—his parents had instilled in him Christian morals and values, a pious love for God. He hadn't been overbearing about it, wasn't some Bible-thumping hypocrite who would pass judgment on you if you told him you didn't believe in God. He was a tolerable man, respected other people's beliefs even if he didn't agree with them. But he had made sure to teach us anyway, made sure we went to church every Sunday and read the Bible the moment we could string words together. Because he had thought it was important that Sora and I, as his children, developed our own relationship with Christ. At our own pace. And I'd be lying if I told you that, years ago, I hadn't believed feverishly. Years ago I'd been a strong believer, all because of Dad. All of us had been.

Things changed so much.

Ma would confront him all the time in those last two years… Sora and I had been ten at the time, hadn't understood why Ma was upset about money turning up missing from the joint savings account or the secret appointments that Dad kept up with. He had stopped being the fun, loving, open, adoring, and trusting father we had seen him as. He'd been tired. Irritable. Secluded. Always out of the house. Or fighting with Ma. She thought he'd been cheating. Threats of divorce were thrown in the air.

It took another year for the man to admit he'd been battling with cancer behind our backs.

It took three months after that for us to learn that he had hidden it for nearly two years.

It took nine months after that for his condition to worsen until, finally, he passed away.

Things changed.

Mom started focusing on her work more and more, to the point where she spent more time teaching and organizing events at her university than at home. She worked late into the night and barely said a word to us in the morning. She stopped smiling and laughing like she used to, which in turn made us stop smiling and laughing.

Aunt Renee didn't come over as much, eventually stopped visiting altogether. We didn't get to hang out with our cousin Yuna like we used to. Maybe once in a blue moon, during family gatherings at Christmas or Thanksgiving, but for the most part they faded away into the background. Which was understandable. Aunt Renee and Dad had been best friends, even before he and Ma married, so she took it pretty hard when the word got out.

Grams kept to herself and went on with her life, like things hadn't changed. But something inside her had hardened, just a bit, because she had seen Dad as the son she'd never had.

Sora… Sora started wearing bras and skirts and dresses and a wig. He started hoarding girls' clothing in this trunk in his bedroom, started dressing up when Ma and I weren't home. But I'd caught him one day. He started going through Ma's makeup and magazines. He started pretending that he was a girl—still does—and it drove me insane because I thought he was crazy. I tried going along with it, tried getting along with him like I used to, but eventually we stopped talking. Really talking. We just drifted apart.

I stopped talking to the friends Sora and I shared. Hayner, Pence, Olette. Just avoided them altogether until, eventually, I fell out of their circle. It wasn't hard, considering the fact that they went to a different school than me. I focused on my school work more. Sports and clubs. Operation Smile. Track. Basketball. Bible Club. I volunteered at the church that everyone else in my family, save for Grams, stopped attending after the funeral. I made sure to stay as busy as possible so I wouldn't have to think about anything else.

Our family stopped speaking. Yes, there were conversations about trivial things. Like what we'd eat for dinner, or when our next report card came out, or if we watched the morning news. The generic questions that every family asked: "How was school? How as work? What did you do today? What do you want for dinner?"

But other than that my family didn't really talk. It was like Dad's death had sucked out all of the happiness we once had and left us as a group of strangers sharing one roof.

Each one of us, Sora, Ma, Grams, and definitely me… We. All. Changed.

You've got to understand that.

* * *

><p>Freshman year had been the epitome of suckish. And I add "ish" because it wasn't completely bad, but still pretty damn close. I hadn't really known anyone at school and hadn't made an effort to get to know anyone. I hadn't really felt like joining any of the clubs or sports teams they had open at the time. I hadn't particularly enjoyed my teachers or my classes. I had been the quiet angry kid that read and wrote a lot in the back of the room for pretty much the entire year. I didn't know <em>why<em> I felt annoyed and or bored by everything—there were a few reasons I came up with, but none of them had been quite right—I just was.

Axel had been the only one who got to see another side. Well, no, that wasn't right either. He hadn't seen another side, he had brought it out. Something friendly and chatty and a little open—just a bit, because I hadn't let people get too close, no matter who they were.

He had been the goofball junior in my keyboarding class, had sat at the computer next to me. Always had a box of Dunkin' Donuts with him every morning, the powdery kind that got real messy no matter how careful you were. And every day when he walked in he would offer three to our teacher, who made an exception to the no food and drink rule just so she could enjoy her free breakfast before starting the class. I remember Axel trying to get me to talk one day by waving a donut in my face, like I was some sort of dog, and saying, "You know you want it."

And instead of taking it I snatched his box and kept the rest of them for myself, much to his displeasure. We've been friends ever since. He made freshman year a little better, just a little, even though we only saw each other for one class five times a week.

But I'm getting ahead again. I don't want to start with Axel. There was another boy.

Riku Prioletti. He'd made things…interesting. To say the least. Meeting him had been an accident. Meeting him had changed things.

The first time I saw him he had been sleeping. Friday after school. I hadn't wanted to go home because Sora was probably there dressed up and Ma wasn't home. So I took a walk outside, decided to check out the lake a little ways out in the forest behind the soccer field. I'd had a box full of powder donuts and my backpack slung over my shoulder, and I just kept walking through trees and damp grass with this lost feeling. With this deep desire to see the lake I'd heard about, to just sit by it for a while and think to myself. Maybe write something.

I hadn't expected to see someone laid out beside the water's edge. A silver haired boy laying stomach down on what looked to be a beach towel, using his messenger bag as a pillow. He had his arms folded in front of him, his head resting on them and his bangs practically blanketing his pale face. He looked so peaceful, so calm, so comfortable where he was.

My first thought was that he was cute.

My second thought was that something was horribly wrong with me for thinking he was cute, because I didn't swing that way. No… I didn't think it was _okay_ to swing that way.

But.

He was kind of cute.

There was a camera resting beside him in the grass, screen facing upwards and a little damp from the cool autumn air. Just a few inches away. I hadn't been close enough to touch it or its owner, but close enough to see what I'd assumed was the latest picture. Catching sight of said picture made me flush beet red—which was something that I just. Didn't. Do. But this picture—

There was a naked woman. And I'm not gonna lie to you; it caught me off guard. Not that I hadn't seen a naked woman before. Not that I hadn't seen a woman curl up on a bed with her legs tangled in sheets and her fingers buried in her hair and her body arched up the way it was on that camera screen. No, I'd seen that before.

What made me flush and freak out was the fact that the woman had looked eerily like this boy. The same silver hair that fell around her shoulders. The same round yet angled face. The same paleness. Striking sea green eyes that were looking _right at the camera_. With this fierceness, this self pride.

It was unmistakably a picture of his mother. Naked. _Purposefully_ posing naked.

_What the fuck?_

There was no way I could stay put after that, no way I could just leave. I kept thinking, maybe, this guy… Maybe he and his mother… I'd fought the urge to vomit, shook my head. Nearly dropped my box and bag. But I went over to him, slowly, careful not to wake him. I'd sat down beside him and set my stuff down, watching the way his back rose and fell with each deep breath. And before I could stop myself I let curiosity take over and picked up his camera.

Yes. It was stupid. Yes, I should have walked away. No, I shouldn't have touched his camera, let alone skim through picture after picture wondering (hoping?) if I'd come across another nude picture of his _mother._ Which still left a bad taste in my mouth, now that I thought back on it. I just didn't get why _any_one would want to have pictures like that. Of their mother.

But that had been just one of a few. (Not that that made it any better.) The rest weren't of people, no, but of everyday objects. Of plants and animals. Calming scenery such as a different forest, of an autumn landscape with burnt orange and gold and burgundy leaves raining through the sky. A children's park with worn down playground equipment. A stray cat perched on a brick wall. The still, blackish waters of the lake beside us. And more. All of them were high quality, even though the camera itself seemed old.

I don't know how to explain it… Something about the pictures. I mean, yeah, you just aimed a camera, pointed and clicked a button. Simple. But something about these pictures was different. Something about them spoke to me. It was like I could tell how much this boy loved taking pictures just by looking at them. Getting past the almost incestuous photos of his mother, I think he genuinely enjoyed it. I know, it was strange making that kind of assumption, but—

"What the hell are you doing?"

If you had seen the way I jumped, you would have been surprised that I hadn't leaped right out of my skin. The sound of the boy's voice shocked me so much that I'd thought my heart literally stopped, if only for a moment.

He was wide awake now. When he'd woken up, I couldn't be sure, but he was fully aware and staring up at me with such striking green eyes so much like his mother's… Then I remembered the pictures of his mother, flushed deeply and tried to swallow the lump in the back of my throat. _Shit._

"S…sorry, just… Your pictures are nice." _Your pictures are nice? Now he's gonna think you're some kind of pervert. Crap…_ I mean, they were nice. Charming in a way, almost professional. But the ones of his mother… God, I didn't want him to know I'd seen them. Or what if he already knew, now that he'd caught me red handed? What would he say? All of that rushed through my head in a matter of seconds.

The mystery boy just frowned and narrowed his eyes at me. "Don't touch the fucking camera."

"I said sorry…"

He hadn't said anything for a moment, instead pushed himself up and rubbed some of the sleep from his eyes. I didn't know what else to do, so I just held the camera out for him and he all but snatched it from my hands. Checked it. I guess, to make sure I hadn't deleted anything. After a couple minutes of reexamining his pictures, of me looking away in embarrassment, and him making this weird noise in the back of his throat; he'd looked back up at me with this curious expression. "Roxas, right?"

I blinked in confusion, eyes wide. "What?"

"You're Roxas. The kid in my English class."

What? Had I seen this guy before? "Third bell? Mrs. Bronx?"

"Yeah. You always sit in the back."

So he knew who I was… I wasn't sure if that was something I should have been even more embarrassed about or not. "And?"

_Snap._ One picture. I hadn't been able to get words out fast enough to stop him, so he just snapped a quick picture of my face. Then he looked at it, looked at it long and hard like he was studying some work of art.

I blinked. "Why…?"

"I like your face. It's cute." He'd said it so matter-of-factly, so simply that I'd almost thought I hadn't heard him right. But no, after a couple of seconds my brain processed the sentence and confirmed that, indeed, he had said I was cute. Some guy I'd never met before had called me _cute_.

The strange thing about it, was it didn't fill me with disgust. I didn't feel the need to deck him for it. Any other person… I would have probably done it. Would have probably said something nasty enough to ensure that they wouldn't call me 'cute' again. (Yes, I was that kind of person…) But… With him, it gave me this weird feeling. Made heat rush to my face. And he gave me a knowing smile because of that.

"The hell." I muttered, scooting away after recollecting my thoughts. "What, are you gay or something?"

"Bi."

"Gross."

A laugh. "Why, does that bother you?"

"Yeah, actually, it kind of does."

"I don't see you walking away, though."

And what the hell did he know?

"It's gross," I repeated angrily, thinking on something Grams had said to me one day, long ago. That just made the teen's grin broaden. There'd been something so playful about him that I couldn't stay upset for too long, but it still creeped me out. Does that make sense?

"Says the boy watching me in my sleep."

"I wasn't… Stop staring at me like that."

"You really have a nice face," he said quietly. He wasn't joking.

I scowled, ignoring the weird flutter in my chest. "Look, pretty boy, I'm not gay."

"Mm."

_Change the subject, Roxas. _"What's your name anyway?"

"Riku. Why, you wanna stalk me some more? What of it?"

"Nothing, I'm just curious."

"Uh-huh." He had stretched his arms into the air then, this smirk on his face. Then he set the camera back down in its original spot before laying back down the way I had found him. He looked up at me with those captivating eyes—why the hell was I getting so caught up in his _eyes?_ And he had that weird smile on his face that sent some sort of ripple through my body. "Well, Not Gay Roxas, I'd really like to continue this nap. But feel free to keep watching me in my sleep if you feel up to it."

And I hadn't said anything to that, just gave a snort. Looked to his camera again, reached for it because I was still genuinely curious. Because I wanted to delete that photo of me.

He'd slapped a hand over mine, though, squeezed it tightly enough to make me wince. Narrowed his eyes. "And _don't._ Touch. My camera."

"Or?"

"I'll rip your balls off."

_Of course you would. _I'd rolled my eyes at him before pulling my hand free, rose to my feet and gathered my things. "Whatever."

I had left him after that, not really understanding the feeling he gave me but enjoying it all the same. And even though I hadn't realized it at first that was the start of so much more, the start of a lot of good and a clusterfuck of bad. I hadn't known then that Riku had his own story that somehow managed to intertwine with mine. I hadn't known that it would _change_ things the way they did. That chance meeting, two years ago, was a catalyst. I guess you could say that…

So you see, there's Sora.

And there's Riku.

And there's Axel.

All three of them radically flipped my life upside down.

But that's a little later.


	2. Break Your Heart

**Author's Note:** Gah, I'm _so_ sorry this update is late! I meant to finish this earlier, but I just. Got. Stuck. It happens sometimes. This Axel's…a little different. I can't really explain it. I don't have much else to say at the moment, but I did want to thank you all for reading and thank you for being so patient. Much love, as always~

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><p><strong>Axel; I Might Tear You Apart<br>**

_I'm not thinking straight. Not completely. I should be, but…_

_Why am I doing this again?_

_Sora's lighter than I thought he'd be. He's lighter and he smells nice, like some floral scented perfume he probably swiped from his mother's collection. I'm sure about it. Or maybe I should call him a she tonight. After all, he's dressed for it. God, that blouse, that skirt, those boots… They all look good on him._

_He always looks good, boy or girl._

_Why am I doing this? How'd we get here, anyway? There's the party, the club, the lights, the music. I'd wanted to get away just moments ago, needed to. I've seen too much of Roxas. After the two nights ago… My head hurts. Something about those drinks Zex gave us… Then we stumbled out into the alley, Sora and I, to my car. And now… There's a spike in my head, pressing and pressing and giving a dull throb in the back of my skull. It's keeping me from thinking straight. I can't. I should be, but I'm not. I wouldn't be doing this otherwise. We wouldn't be…_

_Sora's got his fingers in my hair right now, his body curling into mine as my own hands roam underneath the blouse I'd bought him the day before._

These clothes have to go.

_I shouldn't be thinking that at all. Not about Sora. Not with Sora, not with sweet little Sora who looked pretty damn good in a pair of heels and a wig. But the clothes come off anyway. The brunette lifts his arms enough for me to yank off the blouse, the bra, and the fake tits said bra was stuffed with. Everything falls to the floor, out of sight and out of mind. Somehow my lips are on his for the second time tonight. Somehow it feels right, in spite of the guilt steadily growing in the back of my throbbing head._

_Maybe I'm drunker than I originally thought I was? I've only had two drinks. Two drinks don't usually give me this kind of kick, so…_

_Why am I doing this?_

_Why isn't Sora stopping me?_

_He wants it? In spite of his earlier protests, maybe he does want it just as bad… No, that's a lie. I know he wants it. I know he's wanted it for a long time. This isn't right. I need to stop. Why've I started any of this while knowing that it won't go anywhere? Why am I doing this when I know it won't progress to anything?_

_It's just for the night. I just want this night because Roxas just… He pissed me off, so fucking much two nights ago. The one time he talks to me in months, and he just… That's a horrible reason though. I need to stop. If I wasn't half as buzzed as I felt, would this even be happening right now? Would I be using Sora the same way his brother used me? Do I care?_

For a drunk man, you think too much,_ a voice in my head says. Cool Axel. Slick Axel. The fucking dick Axel, that I listen to far too often… He gets me in trouble. Him and his fast mouth and his fast thinking and his fast self._

_And he says, _He's practically giving himself to you. You're gonna pass that up?

_Stupid me, I listen to him._

_My tongue's on Sora's entrance now, just licking the rim before plunging in. He arches. He moans. He twists in a way that has me aching with need, and ready to just—_

"_A…xe…1!"_

_I'm not thinking. If I was, I wouldn't have lost it. I wouldn't be pressing into Sora after he calls my name, telling him to relax and whatnot. I'd have him put his clothes back on and I'd tell him to go back to the party while I cool my head. (Both of them…) Until I got this—whatever _this is_—out of my system. Until I could _think_ straight about all of this._

_But I'm an idiot and I'm horny and I just don't care, so we fuck right here in the car. The other little voice in my head tells me to stop right now. Not with Sora. Not with my best friend's—were we still friends?—brother. Not when I'd rather be with… But he looks so much like him. They have the same eyes, almost the same face. But I shouldn't be doing this._

_He's fucking sixteen._

_He fucking likes me._

_I shouldn't be fucking around with him when I don't feel the same. I shouldn't be fucking with his feelings._

_I can't think straight, so I don't think at all. Not until it's over. Not until he's lying on top of me, not until we're both sweating and panting and just resting against the cool leather seats in silence. That's when it fully hits me. That's when it starts to hurt. That's when the throb in my head starts growing and growing and…_

_I hug him because I know he's about to leave for good. Because I'm an idiot. I hug him out of discomfort and out of pity. Almost as an apology for the words that just came out of my mouth next._

_I don't think._

"_Don't tell Roxas."_

_And his entire body tenses up for just three seconds. Three seconds, and I can tell that it hits him too. That look of contentedness and love just…vanishes. His face is blank. So blank. Or maybe it's more like a mask to hide the raw pain and anger. I've made a mistake. I've made a stupid mistake._

_Then he's pushing himself away from me and fixing his clothes, his wig. He's slipping back into the skin he's most comfortable with, the girl version of himself. He wants to be one so bad, it's weird. I don't get it, but it suits him somehow. Just not with that blank mask. I want to say something. Anything._

"_Sorry," doesn't seem like it'll cut it. Nothing I think of seems to cut it. So I don't speak and just sit there, and he slips out of the car with a now broken expression. He walks down the darkened sidewalks without a word. I should go after him, make sure he gets home alright, but I don't move._

_Even now I think of Roxas._

_Shit._

* * *

><p>My life is boring. Well, maybe boring's not the right word. More like dull. Even then, that seems too much like boring. It's not that simple to explain, really… Picture a box, and you're stuck in that box. It's not closed off to the point where you can't break out, but it's difficult to. It's stuffy, it's uncomfortably familiar, it's big enough for you to fit in but you want something bigger. You want something better. You want something different. Don't know if that quite makes sense.<p>

Point is I hate my life. Plain, simple, boring, dull or otherwise. As of last night, I've added suckish to that list.

Sora…

I'm an idiot.

"Quit it."

Oh.

It took me a minute to snap out of my thoughts and flick my eyes open. Bedroom. Right. Crap… My head was still killing me. The ache kicked in full swing when I rolled over in my bed, snagging warm—not the good kind of warm—sheets on my shoulder as I moved. It was a couple more minutes before my vision cleared and I took in the smaller form curled up beside me in a fetal position, trying to pull more of the sheets over itself. The freakin' Panda Bear.

He blinked his blue eyes twice, lazily, then gave a small sigh. His voice was muffled by the pillow and mess of hair swept over his pasty face. "You keep moving. Quit it."

I yawned, wrinkled my nose when I caught a whiff of his breath. "Gross, man. You smell like booze."

"You're one to talk."

"You're the one that gave it to me."

"Mm."

A comfortable silence. His eyes slipped back closed, as did mine, and we just laid there. He probably had the same leftover buzz I did, but not as bad. Or maybe he was just tired. I wondered… How was Sora's headache? Did he have one?

I pushed the brunette out of my mind, ignoring the little voice in my head screaming, _You should've listened!_ Turned towards the other figure and stared at him instead. "What the hell're you doing in my bed anyway, Zex?"

"Demyx is in mine," he mumbled without opening his eyes.

Figures. "And you can't just use his?"

"He brought a 'friend' home last night. I wasn't about to listen to them screw like rabbits."

Ah. Knowing Dem, he probably stumbled into the apartment with his latest plaything sucking at his face (amongst other things) and just crashed onto his roommate's bed without a second thought. Probably too drunk to tell the difference or care. It was a habit he needed to learn to kick, 'cause I was getting damn tired of Zex crawling in bed with me. We had a couch for a reason.

A light groan slipped from my lips. I rolled back over onto my stomach, smothering my face in the pillow that smelled faintly like hair gel. (Damn thing needed to be washed soon…) Waited for what felt like ages. Then I hopped out of bed, tossed the sheets over Zexion's head and headed for the bathroom. He mumbled something just as I opened the door, causing me to glance back at the bed. "What?"

"Call Roxas." He repeated it loudly with the same muffled voice, without moving an inch.

I frowned. "Why?"

"He said he needed to talk to you last night. You'd already left by then. Just call him, alright."

"Sure, whatever."

"He sounded pissed." Here he pulled just enough of the covers off of his face to aim that groggy stare towards me. Even when he was half asleep he could manage to look intimidating. "What'd you do?"

"Everyone assumes I did something," I mumbled, disappearing into the bathroom. He mumbled something unintelligible as I shut the door behind me.

Roxas was the last person I wanted to think about right now. Too early in the morning for it. Even the thought of saying his name left a bad taste in my mouth. He reminded me of the box I was in. He reminded me of last night and the night before, when all I wanted was to push both memories far from my mind. Because I made a stupid mistake.

He was the last person I wanted to talk to.

As I said, though, my life is suckish and I rarely get what I want without it resulting in some big screw up. See, 'cause I fail hard where it counts and excel in making an idiot out of myself. A sweet talking idiot, mind you. An idiot stuck in a box that's not bigger, better, or different in the least. An idiot who'd rather pretend that the shit going on in his life doesn't exist rather than face the facts and do something about it. An idiot who _knows_ he's an idiot but would rather stay idiotic if it meant staying in his comfort zone.

'Cause it's easier that way, no matter how you look at it. 'Cause I'm not one to change so quickly. 'Cause, as big and bad as I try to act, I'm really not all that. I knew that. Roxas did too. He had a knack for knocking me down a peg whenever he thought necessary. He also had a knack for busting my balls at the slightest slip up.

_But this time it's not 'slight,' you moron._ The righteous voice—could it be my conscience?—was back with a vengeance. It was firing off in the back of my head with steadily rising volume as I started shower water, as I stripped and climbed into the tub. _You messed up. You don't even realize how much you've _messed. Up._ No, or you just don't care. Do you care? And you know Roxas knows something's up, otherwise he wouldn't need to talk to you. Please, he hasn't talked to you in months, save for that other night. He's going to _castrate you._ You know that, right? He'll just rip the whole thing off and call it a day. And another thing—_

"Shut up," I muttered as scalding water hit my bare skin. "You think too much."

* * *

><p>I think boxes run in the family. The figurative kind, remember? You know, I think we each got our own little box right next to each other with these ambiguous labels, all these traits that just don't work well for us. Dysfunction's what I'm getting at. It's just… We're all stuck in boxes, and even though they're close to each other—like <em>right <em>next to each other—we can't really communicate. We just don't. At all. Ever. The words might be able to go through the cardboard walls, but they'd get muffled and jumbled up in the process. We're just stuck and we're through with trying to understand each other. I don't know how to make it make better sense than that. It sucks. But, well… Point is I'm not really close to my family. Most of them.

There's my nephew. Hell, the way he looks and acts sometimes, people mistake him for my son. (Which isn't a bad thing, inheriting my good looks and all.) Of course, I've never really seen him as much of a nephew, but more of a brother. He figures the same. That's why, when he was old enough to talk and recognize who I was, I told him we'd have none of that "Uncle" business. It was weird and made me feel old. So he just sees me as Axel, I just see him as Lea, and his parents see us as…

I don't know what they see. They don't pay attention to their kid much. After twelve years of trying to deal with their own baggage instead of properly raising him, I guess they're just too tired. It used to bother me, the extent to which they pushed their own son to the back burner. I mean, it's not so bad. I'll be blunt. Elena's a decent mom; she tries. Reno doesn't. And that stings, considering the crap he and I had to go through with our parents when we were younger—

Back on topic. Let's not get into all of that.

I stick out for Lea when his parents won't, and that's how it is. He's a head sore, but it's not like I can blame him. That's why I'm okay with things like dropping him off at school or taking him out somewhere on the rare occasion he asked. Or picking him up after school, like now. He'd texted me the moment I got out of my last class for the day, said something about needing a right home after his game.

"Yo," Was the first thing out my mouth when I pulled up to the front of his school that evening. He was one of the three students still waiting around for their parents to drag their adolescent behinds back home, except he looked ten times more pissed off than the others did. And dirtier. And sweatier.

He was quick to slam the door closed when he climbed into the car, still in his soccer uniform. The bag hit the floor and he slouched. "Hey."

"Gee, don't look too happy to see me."

He took my advice and simply adjusted his seat all the way back so he could lie down. Arms crossed, eyes closed, and he rolled over to his side just a bit as I drove back onto the road.

"How was the game?"

"Okay."

"Just okay?"

"We won."

"That's good."

"Yeah, great."

He didn't sound too "great." It was probably better not to push it, considering the foul mood he was obviously in. Any other night I would have given him sweat about acting stank, but there was already an idea in my head why he was upset.

I didn't say anything, just waited until he did. His voice was low."They said they'd be there."

"Mm…"

"I mean, I don't mind if you can't make it. Stuff comes up. But for God's sake, if you say you're gonna be there then _be_ there."

His parents. In a nutshell, they never quite delivered. Not when it counted.

After a while he asked, "Can we get Five Guys on the way home?"

"You got Five Guys money?"

"I gotta twenty."

"Good enough."

"And I wanna see Isa before we get back," he added quite nonchalantly.

I felt a weird twinge in my heart at the mention of his friend. He was still hanging out with that kid? "Not today."

"I just wanna drop something off."

"Not today, Lea, it's getting too late."

"Pssh. Yes, mother dearest— Ow!"

"And I'll hit ya again if you keep mocking me," I purred, giving him one more light punch to the arm.

"Child abuse!"

He hadn't laughed, let alone looked happy, since I'd picked him up. So his joking was a nice change from the gloom and doom written on his face earlier. We talked the entire ride, even when we stopped to get his precious Five Guys—heart attack on a bun, I'm telling you—up until we actually got near his house.

I pulled into the driveway, right next to Reno's expensive ass car and his five-star evergreen lawn. The porch lights were on, and the front door was open behind the (probably locked) screen door, signifying that both parents were home. Too busy to come check on their son, of course. Nana was sitting behind the screen, though, wagging her tail and staring at us with excited brown eyes. The Husky hopped to all fours when she saw Lea put his seat back up.

He didn't move, though, just sat there and stared at the door with this far away look. Like this house was foreign to him. I stared at him a while, voice soft. "If you want, you can stay at my place tonight. We've got room."

"It's fine."

"You sure?"

"…Yeah."

"Lea."

Acid green eyes flitted back to me.

I roughly flicked him on the forehead, ("Ow!") before handing him his bag of food. "Man up, alright."

"Mm." It wasn't a good sound either, but he gave a brief smile while rubbing his noggin. Unbuckled his seat belt. "Thanks Axel."

"All in a day's work, my boy."

"Yeah, no. And you owe me five bucks for those fries."

"The hell I do." There was this goofy look on his face when I ruffled his hair. (Which was just a bit crazier than mine, if you can imagine. Just a bit. But I make it look good.) He shook my hand off as I added, "G'night. Yell at your parents for me."

There was a sad look in his eyes when he smiled again. And I knew why the look was there; I just didn't say anything about it. There was no need. He gave a slow nod before taking his food and backpack and closing the door. "Yeah."

He left with that sad look, leaving me to stare after him until he disappeared into the house. I saw movement in the background, maybe the kitchen, but I couldn't make out the figure before the boy closed the front door behind him. Just as well…

My phone gave a slight jingle. I glanced at the text, nose flaring when I saw it was from Roxas.

**'We need to talk. Soon.'**

Huh.

I almost texted him back—but thought against it and went back home.

* * *

><p>I came home that night with a laze-around-the-house-all-night mindset, and so long as I didn't have to worry about classes first thing tomorrow morning that was just fine by me. When I got in Demyx was heading towards his room giving me a tired wave goodnight, and Zex was settled on the living room couch with his laptop propped open in his lap and his fingers firing away on the keys.<p>

I didn't even bother taking off my shoes or changing, just plopped down on the seat next to him and snatched the remote off the coffee table. "Hard at work, Z?"

Without taking his eyes off the computer screen, he reached up one hand and slid his headphones down around his neck. "What?"

"Paper or something?"

"Ten page essay."

"More power to ya."

"Shut it."

He was in focus mode, and you didn't mess with the Panda when he was in focus mode. It would be crazy to. It would be like throwing water on a sleeping lion and expecting it to _not_ nom your sorry butt to bloody, fleshy pink pieces. (You diggin' that imagery?)

So I just smirked and shut it, flipping through channels and finding nothing that really caught my interest. I figured, after a couple of hours, I could pass out on the couch with no problem. I figured it was okay to sit here and forget about Lea and Sora and Roxas and…everyone, really. For the time being. Just for now.

Sometime later someone knocked on the front door. Which was unusual, at this late hour. (It was going on eleven.) As curious as I was, my laziness was too overpowering and I just sat there until the third or so heavy knock on the door. I poked Zex's side, causing him to let out a harsh breath. "No, no, _I'll_ get it."

My grin widened. "Why thank you."

He set his stuff down on the coffee table, hopped over to the door. I stayed put, keeping an ear ready for whoever it might be. Then Zex called after he opened the door.

"Axel."

"What?"

He didn't have to tell me what. I just looked behind me and saw, instantly dropping the content smile from moments ago.

Roxas.

I couldn't say I was pleased about his sudden appearance, even though a part of me was. I couldn't say that I'd expected him either, even though it wasn't all that surprising considering last night or his text.

_We need to talk. Soon…_

Too soon if you asked me.

I didn't move from the couch, instead leaned back in my seat and stretching my arms out on the back of the chair. I pulled a cigarette from the old pack lying on the coffee table as I spoke. "So His Majesty decides to show up. Looking haughty as ever. No mind if it's in the middle of the night, there's always room for you."

If he picked up on the sarcasm, he didn't say anything about it. "I told you I'd be coming over."

"You didn't tell me jack," I shot back, sticking the cigarette in my mouth and fumbling around one of my pockets. Where'd that damn lighter go?

"If you're gonna fight, take it outside," Zexion interrupted before the blonde could reply. He was already settled back in his spot on the couch, slipping his headphones back over his head and tapping away on his laptop.

I glanced back at him wearily. "We're not fighting."

"I have a paper due tomorrow morning. Demyx is snoring up a storm in the bedroom, so I'm not going to finish it in there. And I'm not about to sit here and listen to you two bitch at each other. So either you talk civilly and quietly, or you drag your asses outside and fight out there so I can concentrate."

For someone so small, he could get plenty pissed and plenty scary. Especially when it involved school work. He aimed his cold eye at me, then Roxas, spitting out, "Pick one."

There was no arguing with that. Rox and I were quick to head to the front porch. I shut the door behind me, staying put on the top step.

Neither of us said anything right away. No, we just stood side by side on the steps in that awkward moment with scowls on our faces and a familiar feeling on discomfort and confusion growing in the back of our heads. Rox started to say something but cleared his throat instead, hopped down two steps in front of me before turning around and giving me a hard stare.

I made a _tch_ sound, pulled out the lighter in my jeans pocket. (Other pocket. How'd I forget that?) I spoke while lighting the cigarette still hanging in between my lips. "So you're talking to me now?"

He blinked. "It's not like I stopped talking to you…"

"Are you kidding me with this? Haven't heard from you in two days." And before then, for roughly seven months. He acted like I was supposed to shut up and listen whenever he felt like talking, but God forbid if I ever want to drop him a text once in a while. He'd ignore those, but then show up once in a blue moon and act like I was okay with it? "Only time you ever call is when you want something."

He cut right to the chase, ignoring my comment. "What'd you do to Sora?"

What did I tell ya? Only when he wanted something; only when he was bothered by something; only when he thought it impacted him in any way, shape, or form; that was when he contacted me. At least during the months when I didn't hear from him, I didn't have to worry about putting up with his attitude… Figures. He didn't come here to talk to me; he came here for his own agenda. Again.

The memory of two nights ago welled up, but I promptly pushed it back down.

I shook my head at him, disgusted at that moment. Took a drag from my cigarette, holding it firmly in my hand while I ran the other through my hair. "Of course…"

"What?"

I shook my head. "Nothing."

"Really, Axel, what did you do? What'd you say?"

"Why do you need to know?"

"He went home early that night," he snipped, clenching and unclenching his hands into fists. "At the party. I saw you two walk outside, and then he went home early and locked himself in his room. I heard him crying."

Crying. As if I didn't already feel like shit… He hadn't cried in the car. Hadn't even looked close to tears. Then again, maybe he hadn't wanted me to see?

_If you had been thinking…_

There was a bad taste in my mouth, and it wasn't because of the smoke. I didn't want to look at him right now. I didn't want him here right now. It was too getting late for this.

_Maybe if you had been thinking…_

"What did you do?" His eyes were wide and probing and just so righteously Roxas that it was starting to give me headache. It was always so much blue—with him and his sibling—that you couldn't help but be sucked in. Even if you didn't want to be.

Right now it was pissing me off.

I lifted the cig to my lips, blew out smoke that caused him to wave it away from his face and wrinkle up his nose in disgust. "Why do you care, Rox? It's not like you gave a damn about him before."

An indignant stare. "He's my brother."

"You've never been one to act very brotherly, if you ask me."

"I just… It bothers me. You two did your own thing, and I stayed out of it 'cause you two looked happy."

"You didn't have to stay out of it," I snapped. "You act like there was some act of betrayal or something, Rox, like we fucking _offended_ you by becoming friends."

"What am I supposed to think? He's my brother, Axel. You parade around with him in public, ask him to dress up, treat him like some sort of doll—"

"The hell I do. I treat him better than you do."

He didn't say anything to that. Probably figured I was right and chose not to acknowledge it out loud. Instead he glanced off towards the parking lot for a brief moment, then looked back up at me with a mixed look on his face. "Are you two together?"

I scowled. "No."

"Did Sora _think_ you were together?"

Mm.

Damn it…

I didn't need to be having this talk with him. I needed to be talking with Sora about this. It didn't concern Rox.

_Doesn't it?_

Damn it.

I couldn't reply right away, instead blew out a breath and twitched my fingers a bit. For some reason I couldn't look the blonde directly in the eye. "Dunno."

"You're a piece of work, Axel," the boy muttered under his breath, taking a step back on the stairs.

"Look who's talking." His jewel toned eyes just grew sharper when I said that, but I didn't stop. "I don't even know what you want from me anymore, Rox. You showed up before spouting some crap about liking me and wanting to be with me, you _slept_ with me. Then you acted like nothing happened, like you didn't care. Like you were disgusted—"

"No." He said it as if he was the one offended, like he was the one who'd been used. I didn't get it. He was just… I still didn't get it, even now, even after it'd passed. Even though it's been like that since we were both still in high school, since he was just starting out and I was close to graduating.

'Cause before all the fighting we'd started out as two close strangers, had progressed from strangers to close friends. To best friends. And, somewhere along the way, friends with benefits. Fuck buddies. Behind closed door, always, just to experiment. 'Cause Rox had (albeit reluctantly) been up for experimenting. He'd figured, I was bi and he wasn't sure, so why not test things out just to figure things out? If anything, I was a person he could trust with that sort of thing. 'Cause I'd been with a lot of people and knew things he didn't. I could teach him. That was his reasoning.

I just didn't think I'd develop _those _kinds of feelings. Not so soon, not ever. So it hurt this time, after months of him refusing to speak to me. After I'd met Sora, after the brunette and I had gotten close, Roxas had always refused to speak to me. We'd cut things off on a bad note, and when he'd contacted me again after so long it was just for another round of sex with no strings attached. He could claim otherwise, but that's what it was regardless of his excuse.

And I was tired of it. I let him know that, too.

"I'm not some living sex toy, Rox. I'm not just gonna get it up whenever you feel like it and then go on with my life like that's all there is to our relationship. I'm tired of that, and I'm tired of having to settle with that. You know how I feel, so don't treat me like some booty call. Don't give me mixed signals. Don't tell me to treat you like an adult and then go and act like a damn child."

And he didn't say anything for a long time. I narrowed my eyes.

"Which is it?" I demanded. "Do you wanna be with me or not?"

Yes. No. Both answers flashed on his round face at once, and it cut me deep. It probably shouldn't have—but it was Roxas, and it just wasn't fair, you know? It just wasn't. I didn't like the look of indecisiveness on his face right then. I was getting so tired of that look. His voice was a whisper. "I really don't know, Axel"

_You never know. I never know with you…_

Fine.

"Then quit screwing around and get lost." I was already turning back towards the door, ready to head inside. "I'm not about to stand here and take shit from you."

"Axel."

The tone in his voice made me turn back to face him, made me arch a slender brow. He kept his voice level, still frowning. "About Sora."

"…I made a mistake, alright. A dumb one. I'm sorry for that." I was. He had no idea how sorry I was. Why was it so hard to say that out loud, though? Why couldn't I bring myself to say it to the person who deserved to hear it? Why was it so easy to come off as a liar and a hypocrite rather than just fess up to this? I sighed, rubbed the back of my neck with my free hand. "But if you want the story, you'll have to get it from him…"

"Just tell me!"

"You're so damn worried about Sora, try asking him yourself." There was no keeping it in for any longer. He was pushing the wrong buttons, rubbing me the wrong way when I just didn't want to talk about it. I didn't want to think about it. Like hiding it made me a big man or some shit like that. I dunno. It probably would have been better to just let the truth come out now, but. You know.

I took another short drag of my cigarette, blowing out smoke to the side, before replying, "You know, he's not some damsel in distress. He's not some baby who needs you watching over him like a mother hen twenty-four seven. He's tough and he can take care of himself. Give him more credit, alright?"

"You—"

"And I'm sick of you acting like some possessive man whore with a superiority complex," I interrupted, unable to keep my somewhat cool expression under wraps any longer. I felt big then, staring down at him as I ran my mouth. It didn't feel nice, but… "If you care so much about your brother, then act like one instead of sneaking around behind his back and prying into his life when you've clearly cut him out of yours."

Nothing. He said nothing. Just looked like I'd punched him in the gut.

"What? Too harsh?" It was and I knew it. Right now my tone was just downright mocking, downright hateful. "Hit the nail right on the head, didn't I?"

There was a long pause in between in which I'm sure a myriad of thoughts crossed his little blonde head. There was a look on his face that said he wished the darkest evil upon me in the near future and that somehow I didn't deserve anything less. And he spat out his next response with venom in his glare. "Screw you."

"Screw yourself."

_Be careful on your way home_, I'd wanted to say. Even if we were fighting, even if I was pissed at him for justifiable reasons, even if he was pissed at me for equally justifiable reasons—it was late. He'd probably gotten here by bus. And it was late. I should have added a "Be careful" in there somewhere. I should have pulled my ego in check and tried to be civil about things instead. But I didn't. I just took another drag on my cigarette before tossing it on the top step and snubbing it out with my foot. By the time I'd looked back up, the only thing visible of Roxas was the back of his retreating figure. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and was trudging off like some prissy missy drama queen who'd just found out she didn't get invited to her best friend's party.

Didn't matter how pissed off I got, when I thought about it; I'd worry regardless. I'd probably think about it all night and then some, wondering if I should send a text in apology or call to see if he made it home okay. I'd probably wonder if, as angry as I was, it would have made sense to offer him a ride home. I'd probably wonder if it was even worth it, this relationship that wasn't a relationship in the sense I'd like it to be. There were so many things wrong with it. But so many things that felt right. Was it worth it?

And then I'd mentally chastise myself again for thinking too damn much.

Roxas was already heading down the street on the sidewalk, not even sparing me a backwards glance as he went on his way. Probably too focused on finding the nearest bus stop at this late hour—and I really wished he had been closer because I wanted to say something else, but I couldn't think of a damn thing. So I just turned and went back inside.

Boxes… I'm stuck.


	3. Hurt Again

**Roxas; You Drive Me Crazy**

"_Hey, you."_

"_I've got a name."_

"_Mm…"_

"_Riku. It's Riku. Geez, did you forget since yesterday?"_

"_I need to ask you a question."_

"_If it's about the nekkid pics of my mom, then forget it."_

_I don't say anything to that, flushing. Somehow he knows exactly what's on my mind, and it's freaky just how quickly he comes back with that kind of response. Like he's expected it since yesterday, when I ran across his sleeping figure for the first time. He's still by the same spot by the lake, with the same towel, with the same camera placed beside him. But he's awake this time, waiting for me after school._

_(How'd he know I decided to come today?)_

_Still quiet, I sit down beside him and settle my bag in front of me. Avoid his eye. Somehow I sense the smirk on his lips._

_(What's with that smile? What's with those eyes?)_

_I don't particularly mind either._

"_You were going to ask about the pictures of my mom, right?"_

_I stay quiet for a long while, then say, "Why do you have them anyway?"_

"_Why were you looking?"_

"_It's not my fault you have those kinds of sick photos on your camera, Freakazoid."_

"_It's not my fault you poke into people's private lives."_

_I don't say anything, still avoiding his eye. A bit too personal. He doesn't know me, and yet it hits so close to home. Somehow I can tell his smirk isn't going away. Something about him annoys and fascinates me at the same time. I want to punch him as much as I want to probe into his life. Because it seems so…different, his life. I can't pinpoint it. It's something I want to learn about. (Be a part of?) I don't know anything about his life but the pictures are a start._

_He crosses his legs, leans back in the damp grass and supports himself with his arms stretched out behind him. I look at him only because he sweeps his hair out of his face—what's with that girly hair?—and there's no looking away from that much silver._

_Quite matter-of-factly, the teen says, "She asked me to take the pictures."_

_I blink. "Your mom. Asked you. To take naked pictures of her?"_

"_It's called artistic nude for a reason."_

"_Dude, that's your mom."_

"_It's art," he explains, smirk fading into something much more serious now. Even his tone changes and it's entrancing the way his eyes stare into mine. I remind myself that I'm not that kind of guy—am I?—remind myself to keep breathing as he speaks._

_He even reaches for his camera and pulls up the picture of his mother again, holds it up for me to see. "Mother or not, it's a human body. Look, you see how she's curving? How the light hits her body right then? How she's staring directly at the camera with so much raw _power_ in her eyes? It's like she's saying she knows she's beautiful, like she's saying that she _is _beauty. And if not, then she'll make you think so. It's more than just a naked woman, it's a series of natural curves in all the right places and humanity at its simplest. Raw, bare, expressive, fluid…"_

_How can someone say so much about their mother? How can someone take something that looked and felt so _naughty_—at least to me—and make it sound so beautiful? Like poetry? He isn't just justifying this picture, he's glorifying it. He's passionate about it._

_And I soak up every word he says, in awed silence._

* * *

><p>Axel was an idiot.<p>

He was an idiot who smiled too much and laughed too loud and cracked too many jokes. He was an idiot who happened to know me too well, who happened to like me too much, and it pissed me off with a passion. He was an idiot that I happened to like far more than I wanted to admit, and that pissed me off even more. He was an idiot that made mistakes he opted to ignore, who screwed around with people when he knew damn well better, who didn't seem to _care_.

Axel's an idiot.

Unfortunately—fortunately?—he was my idiot. But I wanted to fucking kill him right now.

Because there was no excusing the look on Sora's face.

The brunette had left the party far earlier than I'd thought he would. Not that I had been paying any close attention to him, done up in some blouse and skirt and heeled boots. Not that I wanted to look too hard at my twin parading around in his female form for the night—I tried pushed it out of my mind. Tried to focus on Xion, who had been dragging me around towards some corner to meet a friend of hers. A writer. I wasn't able to focus. Kept seeing red spikes from the corner of my eye, kept spotting that damned grin on his face and the matching one on Sora's.

But then they'd gotten drinks. Somewhere. From Zex I think. They'd started drinking off in their own little corner. Sora'd been drinking and getting this weird look on his face, like he couldn't keep it down. Axel had this gleam in his eyes. Something wasn't right between them, and yet…

But then they'd stumbled out the back entrance, clearly intoxicated. I remember that I didn't like that look. I didn't like how unsure Sora had looked, how adamant Axel had been, how he'd all but dragged the younger boy outside with him. I'd almost excused myself from Xion and her chatty friend and went to follow them…

But then I saw Riku stalk after them, curious. I could only stare, dumbstruck. (And what the hell was he poking his nose in for?) Yet I'd only watched as he followed my sibling and friend, tuned out the rest of the noise around me in that crowded club that I swore—_swore_—I was never coming to again…

Something happened outside. Something with Axel and Sora. Something Riku had seen and had been appalled by, because he'd wandered back inside not long after with even more color gone from his naturally pale face and this _expression_. Like he'd witnessed something he shouldn't have.

Axel and Sora… That idiot had done something, and Sora had left early.

"What's wrong?" I asked him now as he opened the bathroom door. In spite of the foreboding feeling that settled in the pit of my stomach, I had stuck it out for the rest of the party, had gotten a ride home from Dem much later. In spite of my curiosity, I had pushed it out of my head long enough to focus on getting things ready for school tomorrow, on getting ready for bed. Yet with PJ's, towel, and wash cloth in hand I eyeballed my twin with that unsteady feeling growing again and leaping from my stomach into my heart.

Sora didn't answer. No, he had this tired, broken look on his face though that seemed to ask me a question: _What isn't?_ He made an unconcerned sound in the back of his throat, pushed past me still wrapped up in his towel and clutching a trash bag and his wig. Then he disappeared into his room and shut the door behind him. There was something dismissive about it. Something timid about it, like he was holding something back.

And I knew whatever had happened was Axel's fault. In some hard to explain way, I felt responsible for whatever little thing the red head had done, as if somehow his slipup was a result of my slipup. And was this necessarily a little thing? Or was it something bigger than that? I'd never seen my brother like this…

There was something in his silence that worried me to the point of anger.

At him for not speaking— _But you two haven't been on speaking terms in months._

At Axel for causing it— _But you don't know the full story._

At Riku for— _For what, dumbass, for knowing more than you do? For popping up again when you've so carefully made sure to pretend he doesn't exist?_

As far as my life was concerned, he didn't. Not anymore. Yet he _saw_ something and I was hit the powerful need to know what. The thought of contacting him after all this time…was actually tempting. Would he answer? Would he even want to tell me anything? Would he deny he saw anything at all? What…

"What're you just standing there for?" I heard Ma's voice from behind me not long after, cutting into my thoughts. The woman was just now getting home, already shrugging off her suit jacket, kicking off heels as she made it to the top of the stairs. Only briefly did I look back at her before giving a shrug and heading into the bathroom. Showered. Thought. Washed my hair. Thought. Brushed my teeth, changed into pajamas. Kept thinking. Tried to stop thinking, but the damn thought was still there.

_What the hell happened?_

The entire time I replayed the scene thoroughly, repeatedly, in my head. Sora and Axel danced. They were happy. They talked. They drank. They stumbled tipsily outside. Something happened. Riku saw it. Somehow it freaked him out and upset Sora.

What the hell _happened?_

Where was Axel in all of this?

That question stuck itself in my head when I finally made it out of the bathroom and padded carefully over to my brother's room. It wasn't often that we ever went into each other's rooms—not for a long while, not for years—but I figured if I wanted answers it made sense to start at the source. I'd just knock, check in on him. See if he was okay. Because as freaky as he could be, he was still my bro. As much of an asshole as I could be, I wasn't _that_ bad. Or so I liked to think. So I raised a slightly pruned hand to knock on the door, waited with a towel draped over my still drying hair.

I was answered by the faint—I'm telling you, you had to strain, strain, strain your ears to hear it—sound of crying. It was muffled and jerky, yet somehow controlled sobbing. It had me freezing outside the door, had something inside of me hardening. Part of me didn't understand it. Part of me did. Part of me wanted to open the door and peek in on Sora's crying figure. Part of me wanted to pretend I didn't hear anything at all. It wasn't my business. But that was my brother. Maybe it was a twin thing.

What the hell had him in so much _pain_?

I stood there silently, listening to that pitiful sound for three more minutes before opting not to say anything at all and disappearing into my own room. Too long I sat on my bed unsure what to do. Too long I sat staring at the green 10:23 glaring at me from the clock on my nightstand. Too long I thought about that scene at the party, about what I'd just heard, about how much it bothered me when it really shouldn't have been my concern, but… Then I narrowed blue eyes, dug out my cell phone and sent a reluctant text to Axel, because it was driving me crazy.

'**We need to talk. Soon.'**

I could have called, but he wouldn't have answered. Chances were he wasn't even going to answer this text—but I knew he'd at least look at it. He'd probably eyeball it for a long time, cigarette in hand, probably give an indignant snort before flipping his own phone closed and assuming that I wouldn't talk to him again until tomorrow if at all.

In fact, I did end up waiting until the very next night because I was too confused to know exactly what I wanted to say to the red head if I did see him again. The rest of the house was already sleeping. Sora had been acting...differently since this morning. I wasn't sure if it was a good kind of different or not, but I couldn't shake the sound of him crying last night out of my head. So sometime around ten—10:23 again, an odd coincidence—I found myself changing back into more comfortable clothes, locking my bedroom door, and slipping out of my window as quietly as possible. Never mind if, for some reason, Ma woke up and came to check on me. Never mind if I ended up staying out much later than I intended. To hell with the cold bite of the night air or the dampness that clung to my jeans as I steadily climbed from the roof to the backyard. Some weird sense of determination took over my body, so suddenly that it scared me.

I merely zipped up my jacket, stuffed my hands in my pockets, and made my way towards the closest bus stop.

* * *

><p>"<em>Why are you here?"<em>

"_I missed y—"_

"_Don't give me that shit, Roxas. Why the fuck are you here?"_

_I bite back my words. He's on alert, emerald eyes blazing at the mere sight of me on his doorstep. Zexion's got a night class every Tuesday, so I know he's not present. Demyx could be lurking in the apartment somewhere, but the red head's looming form in the middle of the doorway doesn't allow much room for me to glance inside the apartment._

_I stay calm. Repeat, "I missed you."_

_He bristles. Three simple words, and yet he's so pissed, but he doesn't say anything. Sizes me up. I feel small right now. I can look at it a number of ways, but the fact remains that there's a good four and a half years between us. It doesn't seem that bad, but in terms of sixteen to twenty … It seems like a humongous gap. It makes me feel like more of a boy compared to this man. I feel small._

_But he gives me a look that doesn't seem like an adult scolding a child, more a look of someone judging their equal, and I stand a little straighter. Hoping. Praying._

_I've missed him. For a long time now I've missed him, and it's brought me to this visit. I'm the one that started ignoring him after he and Sora met each other, yes, but that didn't mean it hadn't driven me crazy. I've missed him and his voice and his face, God, his face, even if it was stiff with anger._

_Something in his expression softens after a moment, though. Resignation. He folds his arms across his chest—very visible in the form fitting, long-sleeved black T-shirt he's sporting—leans against the door frame. The edge still doesn't leave his tone. "You missed me. So what?"_

_I don't know what to say to that._

"_What, you thought I'd welcome you back with open arms? Whadda you want, a big ol' kiss, a fucking hug? What, Rox?"_

"_Can we start over?"_

"_What makes you think I want to?"_

"_Axel—"_

"_I'm fuckin' _done_, okay? I'm tired of this 'I hate you again-I want you again' bullshit you've been pulling for the past three years."_

"_Axel."_

"_You don't get to just decide that you 'forgive me' all of a sudden, that you want to start over, and expect—"_

"_I'm not expecting." He stops talking when I reach out and grab his hands. Whatever fight he had left in him disappears when I squeeze those lean, burning fingers in my own and give him an almost pleading look. I stay calm, voice soft. "I'm asking. Can we start over? 'Cause I've really missed you."_

_It's the closest to an apology I can muster right now. Because I don't know what to say or how to say it. I never know quite what to say. His friendship with Sora still bothers me. And it's not the friendship part of it so much as it's how it started. How do you explain the embarrassment of having a cross-dressing brother to the friend who actually digs that sort of thing? How do you handle knowing the your friend's first impression of your sibling—a sibling they hadn't even known existed until that day—was a half-naked boy wearing fake breasts and makeup? So much about it still bothers me, but I don't say anything else about the subject.  
><em>

_If Axel wants to talk about it, he doesn't let it show. Instead he squeezes my hands back, still studying my face carefully. Then, right there on the porch and uncaring if anyone outside saw, he leans down and pulls me into a kiss. It is a long kiss, slow and heavy and sensual, and I feel his tongue wrap itself with mine before running over my bottom lip. My eyes slip shut and I feel his hands breaking away to settle on the back of my neck. I rest my own fingers against his ridiculously skinny (just shy of bony) waist, pulling in closer to him._

_Then we're inside, behind the door, lips still locked._

_Then we're more hungry with our movements, running hands everywhere, peeling off clothing._

_Then we're on the way to his bedroom, on his bed, in the sheets…_

_There's no more talking, just "Yes" and "Right there" and "Ah—ah!" Limbs tangled and hair mussed up and a thin layer of sweat that covers our soon naked bodies. We have sex after seven months (almost eight?) of no contact, physical or otherwise. It's hot. It's wild. It's tender and passionate. It makes my mind shut down completely for the rest of the night, and I don't think twice about spending the night there even though I have school first thing tomorrow. That, and I'm sure Ma will notice that I've snuck out. I don't think about that afterward, though, I just settle myself into the curve of the man's body and relish his warmth, enjoy the even sound of his breathing, the light hum in his throat, examine the sculpted beauty that is his face and body that feel so good and so right, and I—_

_Regret it._

* * *

><p>That was two nights ago. At that time, I'd come to the conclusion that the feelings I had for Axel were okay, and the longer I tried to bury them the further apart we'd get. Two nights ago my moronic behind thought, if nothing else, we could settle back into our old routine. So long as he'd accept me again. So long as we were talking again. So long as I could feel him touch me the way he used to, talk to me the way he used to. The silence had killed me. Even now I don't quite know <em>why<em> I had gone over in the first place, in the middle of the night no less, but he'd relented and pulled me in. I'd gotten what I wanted.

Then left promptly the moment I woke up the next morning and didn't talk to him since. Some sort of fear had settled in at that point, some feeling I couldn't explain, and very suddenly I told Axel that a mistake had been made and that I had to go. Obviously hurt, he hadn't bothered to stop me.

Two nights ago. And I was back again, sure I wouldn't be accepted a second time. Things were a bit different now, though… This time it would be strictly about Sora, nothing else. I needed to talk to Axel about Sora but—

"Why do you care, Rox? It's not like you gave a damn about him before."

And that fucking hurt right then, that was a fucking lie, because if I didn't give a damn then I wouldn't have been out here in the first place. My jaw was tight. "He's my brother."

"You've never been one to act very brotherly, if you ask me."

_Keep it cool._ "I just… It bothers me. You two did your own thing, and I stayed out of it 'cause you two looked happy."

Was that it, though? Wasn't it because of the skirts, the dresses, the hair, the makeup? Or was it jealousy? That my friend seemed to be able to click so well with my brother in spite of the brunette's issue…or that my brother was able to open up so completely to someone other to me? Wasn't it both? Why couldn't I get that out in words?

I didn't have to stay out of it. Axel told me so, emotion flaring up in those eyes of his. I didn't have to stay out of it, they were just friends.

But then Sora wasn't one of the love-struck girlfriends Axel often rotated between every few weeks. He wasn't some disposable toy for the red head to play around with, to sleep around with, like he did with others—he'd always been open with me about that. It was a hard thing not to notice; Axel could be a shameless flirt, a ladies' man.

But he didn't need to be Sora's man.

"Are you two together?" I finally asked him, still running those thoughts through my head. Their friendship. The party. Sora crying…

He scowled. "No."

"Did Sora _think_ you were together?"

We both knew the answer before it even left his lips. His fingers twitched; the cigarette cradled between them did as well. It was here that the eye contact stopped, that green orbs wandered off to the side as he gave a lazy, "Dunno."

_Figures._

"You're a piece of work, Axel."

"Look who's talking."

And more sharp words were exchanged, insults thrown. We were both letting loose and yet holding back, frustrated yet longing for something more. Somehow the conversation had taken a turn away from Sora to just the two of us. To two nights ago.

"I'm not some living sex toy, Rox. I'm not just gonna get it up whenever you feel like it and then go on with my life like that's all there is to our relationship. I'm tired of that, and I'm tired of having to settle with that. You know how I feel, so don't treat me like some booty call. Don't give me mixed signals. Don't tell me to treat you like an adult and then go and act like a damn child."

Child. I didn't say anything.

I felt small again.

"Which is it?" he demanded with narrowed eyes. "Do you wanna be with me or not?"

It was a question I couldn't answer. Didn't want to answer. Not now. My voice was much quieter than I intended, almost a whisper. "I really don't know, Axel."

And his response was much swifter and much harsher than I'd expected. "Then quit screwing around and get lost. I'm not about to stand here and take shit from you."

_But Sora._

"…I made a mistake, alright. A dumb one. I'm sorry for that. But if you want the story, you'll have to get it from him."

_But I came to you._

"You're so damn worried about Sora, try asking him yourself. You know, he's not some damsel in distress. He's not some baby who needs you watching over him like a mother hen twenty-four seven. He's tough and he can take care of himself. Give him more credit, alright?"

_But you didn't hear him crying. But you don't know._

"And I'm sick of you acting like some possessive man whore with a superiority complex! If you care so much about your brother, then act like one instead of sneaking around behind his back and prying into his life when you've clearly cut him out of yours."

_But, but…_

"What? Too harsh? Hit the nail right on the head, didn't I?"

_But…_

But he fucking had.

I think, for a brief moment, I was literally possessed by the Devil. Vile imaginings crossed my mind; evil things that no person should have to endure were playing out in my head with Axel as the main character. I glared and choked out, "Screw you."

"Screw yourself."

I was already turning to leave, already trudging back down the walkway with more confusion circling round my head than when I'd first gotten here. It was so late, too late, and I'm sure there would be no more buses running. I'd have to walk, and by the time I got home it would be going on one-something, giving me a little less than five hours to sleep. And I felt foolish for coming all the way out here when I knew—part of me had already known—that I wouldn't get any substantial answers. I should've known better.

But maybe I just wanted to see his face again.

I should have just stayed out of it and spared myself the humiliation.

But maybe I really missed the silk smooth, milk rich sound of his voice.

I should have made up my damn mind about what I wanted when it came to Axel, because this back and forth thing wasn't going to fly anymore.

But maybe I didn't know what I wanted.

I'm an idiot.

* * *

><p>Back tracking to earlier that day, before I'd even gone to see Axel. Back in school. To <em>him<em>.

He still took his pictures. Of that much I was sure. We hadn't talked at all since the end of freshman year, since the break up.

I couldn't keep my eyes off him today.

Normally so attentive, especially to any and every gaze directed his way, Riku surprisingly didn't notice me staring at him all throughout psych class. He seemed distracted by something, not all there. I wondered if it had anything to do with last night… It wasn't until he glanced towards the clock by the door that his gaze locked onto mine. He blinked. I blinked back, playing it off like I didn't care. Like I was more interested in Mrs. Belle's lecture about nerve impulses than the hypnotic green of his eyes. I pretended to write some notes down, looked down onto my notebook until he looked back away.

I didn't even have to see his face to tell that he was scowling.

Normally I would push all thoughts of him from my mind. Normally, he wouldn't exist. Today, though, I was overwhelmed with curiosity.

Surely he'd gotten a picture of last night? Surely he saw what Axel and Sora had done? Surely he knew something, something that could let me know what the situation was. Was I being too nosey? Hell yeah, but I didn't give a damn. I was going to find out one way or another.

The bell rang. Chair legs scraped against the titled floor as people scooted out from their desks, collected their things. A mix of juniors, sophomores, and a couple of seniors filed out of the classroom seemingly oblivious to Mrs. Belle's reminder of the chapter quiz this Friday. I was quick to get out the door, quick to head to my locker just a handful of steps away from the classroom.

His was right next to mine. He went to it every day. He'd have to talk to me. He probably realized this, too, because he took his sweet time coming from the room, strolled towards his locker. I'd already opened mine, was piling books inside and out, trying to look calmer than I really was. Silence between us as he spun in his combination.

Then I took my chance.

"Saw you at the party last night."

Of course he didn't say anything.

"You…still taking pictures?"

His expression was morphing from mildly annoyed to pissed as he snatched his Algebra II textbook. "Why do you care?"

_Because you have answers I want._ "Just curious."

"Well don't be."

This was going to be a lot harder than I thought. I'd have to phrase things in a way that didn't seem too probing, didn't seem too desperate. Because I could trust Riku to pick up on that and decide, just to torment me, that he wouldn't tell me squat. I'd have to get him to give me some hint that he saw _something_ without him realizing it…

"Roxas~"

But a familiar voice from behind yanked me out of my thoughts. I would have snapped at the voice's owner, but the moment I turned to see a perky Xion approaching me I couldn't help but relax and smile back. Without really thinking about it, I pulled the girl into a hug. "Xion, hey."

She slipped her hat off—Invader Zim, why did that not surprise me?—and leaned in to plant a kiss on my lips that I fought hard to make myself return. "We're gonna be late to class."

"Alright, hold on."

She was a pleasant distraction, but that didn't keep me from looking back at Riku, from opening my mouth to say something. I didn't know what, but my opportunity was steadily slipping away.

He was slinging his handbag over his shoulder, though, and brushing past the two of us without a word. And the opportunity was gone. Xion, sensing the tension, carefully wrapped her hand around my free one and shot me a curious look. "Everything alright?"

I didn't take my eyes off Riku's retreating figure. Opportunity lost. Sora wouldn't tell me. Axel wouldn't tell me. And Riku sure as hell wouldn't tell me. Great.

I sighed, closing my locker. "It's fine."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> There was a time-line error that I had to fix the moment I caught it. Roxas didn't sneak out of the house to confront Axel until the night AFTER the party, not the night of. He spoke (briefly) with Riku earlier that day at school, which is why the last scene is a "back-track". It doesn't drastically change the story or anything, but I needed to point that out. Sorry for the mix up!

And for the record, yes, I have an extensive timeline specifically for this story that I try to stick to religiously. C:


	4. Help, I'm Alive

**Axel; Hard to be Soft, Tough to be Tender**

"_Don't you say a damn thing, you got me?"_

_I don't say a damn thing._

_Mom's bleeding. Her whole arm. I didn't see what happened just minutes earlier, but I'd seen enough deeply cut gashes on her pale skin to know that a kitchen knife had done the trick. But she'd cut too deep this time._

_Dad's pissed._

_He spits his words out at me the moment I walk into the kitchen. It's late, but I only want a glass of water before getting back in bed. It's late, but the kitchen light's already on. And Ma's sitting listlessly at the table with her right arm laid out over a soaking red dishrag. Bleeding on the table we eat on every morning. Nightgown splotched with small dots of red. Her arm's bleeding. One long gushing cut, from wrist to forearm. Dad's at the sink, furiously rinsing the bloody knife, and the woman just sits there with this dazed look in her emerald eyes like nothing's going on._

_I just want a glass of water._

"_Go get the kit," Dad says gruffly, still rinsing the knife. It's not getting any cleaner. When I don't move, he yells again. "Get the fucking first aid, you dumb shit."_

_I just want a glass of water, but I head to the downstairs bathroom and grab the first aid kit. It's cold. The air, I mean. It gets even colder when I return, and the man snatches the box from my fingers. Tells me to sit. I sit beside my mother, and he takes another wet dishrag and starts wiping at her arm._

"_Don't say a thing. Not one fucking thing, Axel, not a fucking thing. Shit. Just shit! Fuck this shit." My father's steaming. Like, I can _feel_ the fucking anger burning off his skin, and I'm not even touching him. I just grip Mom's other hand tightly in mine as the man roughly wipes at the blood. The rusty stench is overwhelming. Mom's not even flinching. I know it's gotta burn, sting, something, but she's just sitting there with that look on her face. Then he gets the disinfecting wipes, some gauze bandages, tiny scissors._

"_Who's gonna drive me to school tomorrow," I dare to ask. Mom usually does it 'cause Dad leaves for work early. She won't be in any condition, though. And Reno won't 'cause he just won't._

_Dad doesn't seem to care. "Ask your brother."_

"_He won't."_

"_Bastard's gotta car for a reason."_

_For driving as far away from here as possible the moment he turns eighteen, which is just two months away. No point mentioning it, though. I just repeat myself. "He won't."_

_He ignores me. He's too busy wrapping Mom's arm up in gauze. I can see a little blood seeping through, but he ignores that too. I vaguely wonder what's so damn hard about dialing 911, but the thought leaves my mind when the man mutters, "I'm gonna run her by Vexen real quick. Doc should be able to fix her up. Go get her coat."_

_I do. He's already leading the woman out into the front hallway by the time I get her coat from the closet. He shrugs on his own, checking the time on the old watch on his wrist. Checks around for his keys. I hand Mom her coat, which she stares at blankly before taking it into her thin fingers. She's shaking a bit, so I help her with it, careful not to scrape her arm. The bandages are getting redder by the minute._

_Surprisingly, we're the only ones who're calm. Dad's a jittery mess._

"_Clean up while we're gone," he says, grabbing Mom's arm and opening the front door. "Scrub it good. Just scrub every fucking spot real good."_

"_Right…"_

"_You say nothing, Axel. Anyone asks, you say nothing."_

"_Right."_

_They leave and the door slams behind them._

_I never say a damn thing._

* * *

><p>I'm a lonely fucker.<p>

People need to get it in their heads that I'm a sociable being. I _need_ to be around people, even if I hate their guts. Sometimes it's more than a need. Sometimes it gets so fucking intense, so _intense_, that I feel like I'll die unless I hear another human being's voice, feel their touch, feel their warmth. It reassures me. It lets me know I'm alive and kicking, that I still have to stick it out with the rest of the world. You don't get it. I _need_ people. People don't always get that, see that. I need someone or I'll go insane. Lately Rox makes me feel like that. Like I'll die. Or go crazy. Or both. It's weird. I know that sounds downright pathetic, but it's the damn truth and I'm not ashamed of it.

I'm going insane right now. You don't even know.

Hadn't heard from that butterscotch blonde since our little argument four days ago. That didn't surprise me. What surprised me was how much it _hurt_ afterward, you know? I'd told him I was done with him, that I'd be more or less fine without him, but apparently that wasn't the case. Straight up, the boy had hurt my feelings. It didn't get any simpler than that.

Why the hell was I so hung up on him?

"'Cause it's Roxas," was Demyx's simple reply.

That Tuesday afternoon found us with classes done for the day, hanging around some coffee shop near campus—_Charla's_, was it?—just to grab some form of caffeinated sustenance before heading home. A small shop downtown, sandwiched between a Verizon store and some Italian restaurant. A homey place, cozy; had some retro music playing overhead, had soft colored tables and chairs that didn't bite into your back. Plus who didn't love the smell of freshly brewed coffee? You could pick up a muffin or two if you wanted. But I just wanted the liquid pick-me-up today. It would have been a painless process, if it weren't for the long ass line. Not to mention the place was stuffy. Why keep the place so freakin' warm?

Glancing none too happily at the seven people in front of me, I slipped out of my jacket and blew out a breath. Looked to Demyx instead. "You think?"

"Bro, I _know_." For the umpteenth time he shrugged his backpack off his shoulder, plopped it down in front of him with the straps dangling in his fingers. He rocked back and forth a little on his toes, brow quirked up at me. "Any other guy you'd be over by now. You and Rox, though? You got this funky love-hate thing going on. All the time. 's not healthy."

"Huh."

And of course he was right. Sucked he was right. But he was right. He knew the ups and downs, saw them often when we were in high school. (What? Two, three years ago? God, I felt old.) Zex had a feel for what went on between Rox and me, but Demyx knew it all. Every. Thing. Weird how I could share all the juicy juiciness with my straighter than straight friend and not the closet gay one, but ignoring those minor details. Dem was the one I bitched and whined to, and he was more than happy to put in his two cents. Oddly enough, it always proved to be insightful, helpful even. You know. Considering it was Demyx.

"And no offence," the blonde continued after a moment's pause, "but Rox is, like…"

His voice dropped just as some broad marched into line behind us. Popping gum. Loudly. _Cra-lack—_that's what it sounded like. I always wanted to shank and burn the people who did stuff like that. Like it was so hard to chew gum properly. I tried ignoring it, though, focusing on my friend's face. "He's what?"

"He's six-freakin'-teen," he said as quietly as possible. Not that anyone was really listening to our chatter.

I blinked. "And?"

"Jailbait, man! You tryin' to get locked up?"

"I'm not a pedo-bear, alright?" At least I didn't think so…

_Cra-lack._ That woman was _really_ popping her gum too loudly for comfort. Like…was she trying to disturb the general public? And it was increasing in frequency with each passing minute. I glanced over my shoulder at the woman. Young. Prettier than sin. Round face, slicked back yellow hair, funky bangs. Antennae? She was dressed way too nicely just to buy a cup of coffee. She shot two bluish-green eyes in my direction, this "What're you looking at?" expression on her face. And she popped her gum again, purposefully. I narrowed my eyes and looked away.

If Dem noticed anything, he didn't let on. He slung his bag back over his shoulder as the line—what was taking so damn long?—finally started inching forward. "I'm just saying, Axel, a guy like you could easily find someone your own age to screw around with."

"You make it sound like I screw around with teenage boys all the time."

"You screw around with _Roxas_ all the time."

_Crack—a—_fucking _lack_.

I rounded on her. "You mind not chewing like a hippopotamus?"

And as if she was expecting as much, she scowled at me. "You mind turning your ugly mug around?"

_Ugly? Oh, she MUST be confused._

"Look, Sugar Tits, I'm too fucking pissed and too fucking tired. So either you stop popping your damn gum, or—"

"Or what?"

"Next! Sir, _next!_"

And before I could say or do anything else, Demyx latched his arm around mine and yanked me up to the counter. When the line had dwindled down so fast, I wasn't sure, but the nervous cashier demanding my order wasn't going to let me think too much about it. I could feel several eyes, customers', resting on me, but—and what the hell were they staring so curiously for? Did I look like a damn freak show?

"Dude, Axel, cool it," Dem muttered shortly, squeezing my arm.

Rolling my eyes I yanked it away, slapped my money on the counter in front of the cashier. Told her she'd be smart to get me my mocha, and stat. She seemed to think that was a mighty fine idea. Six minutes later, my drink and receipt were placed in my hand, Dem had his orange smoothie, and the blonde was carefully leading me out the door away from the smirking woman still popping away on her gum.

"Bitch," I snapped the moment we were out the door and heading down the sidewalk, earning a deep sigh from Demyx.

"Are you PMSing or something? Why're you so moody?"

"Have you _not_ been listening to my Roxas rant?"

"All day, jeez." He was being a good sport about it, joking. That's what he did. Tried to make light of a situation. But I was still too pissed to even crack a smile, to really focus, and the mocha wasn't helping to soothe me in the least. He popped the top off his drink, started sucking smoothie residue from his straw like it was a spoon. Lightly nudged me. "Just lighten up. It's weird when you're all serious."

"You're not getting me, Dem. I fucked up. Big."

"Why the hell should he care if you banged some random chick at some random party—which, might I add, you've done a million times before? It's not like you guys are dating. He's made that clear."

And this was where the misunderstanding was coming in. Sora was a lot more than "some random chick," as he had so nicely put it. He had a point—but this was Sora we were talking about. You didn't _do _something like that to Sora, and yet my drunken ass managed to. But Dem didn't know that. Not Dem, not Zex. Not the truth of the situation.

If there was one thing Roxas made clear years ago, it was that I couldn't tell a living soul about his brother. At all. Which seemed like a load of bull to me at the time, but for some reason I went along with it. As far as everyone else was concerned, Sora had been some random girl I'd met and Rox was just mad I'd slept with her. Him.

"Damn it," I sighed.

Demyx arched a brow at me. "What?"

"Nothing, man. Let's just go."

* * *

><p>"…and then he started laughing so hard. Like, I swear, noodles were spewing out of his nose. All over the table. Tommy <em>squealed.<em>"

"Mm-hm."

"It was sick. You shoulda seen it, Axel. Then he kept eating 'em! His little snot noodles."

"Fascinating."

Lea eyeballed me for a split second before blowing a short raspberry. "You know, you can be less of a douche about it."

I rolled my eyes at him. "I'm listening, damn."

"Then quit messing with your phone."

Green eyes settled on the twelve year old, taking in the mildly offended look on his face with equally mild interest. Wednesday night. He'd had soccer practice this time, but it usually took forever and a day so I'd just sat in the school parking lot for an hour until the munchkins were let out. The entire time I'd been working on some text to send to a certain blonde, but I couldn't figure out what to write. Or work up the balls to send it in the first place. How did he make it look so easy? Why couldn't I whip up a quick **'We need to talk. Soon.'** and send it like it was nothing? Did he really not realize just what kind of hold he had on me?

The red light we'd been sitting at turned green, and I set my cell back in the cup holder with a small huff before continuing down the road. Lea was quick to snatch my phone up before I could even stop him, flipping through my texts. "Who're you talking to anyway?"

"Drop it, half pint."

"Roxas~ Roxy? Dude, is he your boyfriend or something? You text him a lot."

I didn't bother answering that. Instead he received a swift flick on the forehead—"OW!"—that wiped the goofy grin right off his face. I snatched the phone back, locking it, flipping it shut. Then it was back in the cup holder, untouched for the next three lights. Then he snatched it right back up again, trying his damndest to figure out my password to unlock it but failing miserably. Figured it was better than him poking his nose where it shouldn't be.

"What're so mad for?" He said it offhandedly enough, but it still threw me off.

I didn't say anything for a moment, took a deep breath. "I'm not mad, just…tired."

"Well take a nap or something. You're getting too much like Dad."

This time I just didn't say anything.

A thousand questions ran through my head, questions I'm sure Lea didn't know the answer to. Questions I'm sure he didn't know I had. Questions he probably didn't want to answer. For once this past week, I found all thoughts of…well, everything else pushed to the back of my mind, and I was focusing specifically on my brother and his wife. The two of them… I hadn't actually _spoken_ to Reno and Elena in a couple months. There was never anything to say; either Lea would fill me in or I just didn't know.

But I wanted to know.

"How is he, Lea? Him and your mom. How are they?"

I don't get a comment. I got what little amusement there was on his face melting away into something neutral, and he just set my phone back in the cup holder. We were a mere five or so minutes away from his house, but I found myself looping around into another part of the neighborhood, cruising around as slowly as possible. Forget the fact that I was running low on gas.

The boy picked at his jersey, uncharacteristically quiet. "They yell a lot. Sometimes stuff breaks, or something… I don't see much, though."

"Does he hit her?"

"Not…anymore."

"Does he hit you?"

"No."

"Don't lie to me."

He scowled at me. "_No._"

I'd parked by the curb of some house at this point, just letting the car run. Stared long and hard at my nephew's face, not quite buying it. Not sure what to think or what else to say. His face was getting a little red.

"Axel, you'd be the first to know if he did. Trust me."

My voice was a growl. "If he lays a fucking finger on you—"

"He doesn't!"

I didn't buy it. He was probably telling me the truth, but it didn't make the weird feeling in the pit of my stomach go away. I wasn't buying it, but I put the car back in gear and drove back to his house all the same. When he got out the car, he didn't say good night and just stalked off.

* * *

><p>See, the thing is, I wasn't planning on talking to him any time soon. I'd told myself that, convinced myself of that. I'd set him straight, told it like it was. There was no point in going back on that decision, even if I found that I hated it with each passing day.<p>

But Roxas.

We don't mix well. It's like putting two fires together—you'll get a bigger one. Bigger, meaner, fiercer. We're too _us_ for our own good, but we're drawn together. That sounds like some stupid television drama or something, but it's the honest truth. I hated it. Loved it. Hated how I loved it and loved how I hated it…

He called me a couple weeks later. December sixteenth, a bitterly cold Friday. There hadn't been much of an explanation, much of an apology either, just a quiet, "I want to talk to you face to face. The Usual Spot, after school around five. You don't have to come if you don't want to, but I'll be waiting anyway. One hour."

Then, a move that threw me off completely, he'd added a gentle, "Please, Axel." I was a sucker to fall for that.

But Roxas.

Demyx was right.

I met him at the Usual Spot, our "clubhouse" back in the day. There was a back alley just a couple blocks from his school, leading to some fenced off, storage room-like enclosure. Old crates filled with lead pipes and bricks. A tattered curtain for a door. A game of darts tacked lazily to one of the walls, posters collected from who knew where. Some foldable chairs, a table. A mini fridge Dem had scrounged up from somewhere, a small radio on top of it. (Not that it got many stations.)

It was a cozy place, if not worn down. We'd spent many an afternoon hanging around in there. It used to be a hangout for Rox and his old friends. Don't remember their names. But they'd stopped using it 'round high school and Rox figured the two of us should have some place to mess around where no one else could see. The place was clean enough.

He was waiting outside the fenced area when I trudged up, arms crossed in the most girlish of ways. I didn't get too close to him. Maybe a handful of feet or so. Tucked one of my hands in my pocket while digging out a cig with the other. Before I even realized it, the blonde was walking forward and snatching it right out of my fingers. He flicked it on the ground, stomped on it.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Nice to see you too."

"Please listen to me. No distractions."

I figured he didn't look anywhere as cool as he sounded, and whatever it was he had to say was eating him up. And it probably served him right, but I found myself tucking my hands in my pockets and nodding anyway. "Give me one reason."

"You love me."

_Asshole._ Apparently it was reason enough, though, 'cause I didn't have anything to say to that.

And he took a deep breath:

"I've been doing a lot of thinking, okay. A hell of a lot, and it's made things more complicated than it needs to be. So I'll be simple about it. You love me. I love you. You need to know that. I've never stopped—I don't even know when I started to. I just do. And you drive me fucking insane because you keep claiming otherwise. Like I don't have a heart or something. You really think I'm that cold? So get that in your head right now. I fucking love you and I don't know why.

"But that's one of many problems."

And he'd done such a good job in building me up so far, of making my heart skip a multitude of beats, to the point where I wasn't sure if I was breathing anymore. I was just still and listening quietly in this puppy dog way, then he went and slammed the mood dead into the ground. And that's Roxas.

I didn't say anything as he went on, voice soft.

"You sleep around too much. You flirt around too much. I've seen it. You were like that with any guy, any girl, all through high school. Demyx and Zexion have told me stories. I _know_ you, Axel. You _hurt_ my _brother_—how, I still don't know, but you've jacked things up. And you won't tell me. No one will tell me, and it drives me insane because it reminds me how different we are. We're too different… I love you to pieces, Axel, but I can't be with a guy. Or, I know I shouldn't be with a guy. An older one at that."

He didn't say anything else—didn't seem to know what else to say—and I shook my head at him. "Why shouldn't you be?"

A light pause. Pain on his face. "'Cause it goes against what I believe… That's why. That's the only reason why, and it's always been the reason why. God made Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve."

Was he really pulling the fucking religion card on me? His sorry ass called me all the way out here, and he was pulling the God card on me? Was he _kidding_ me right now?

"God damn it, Roxas!" I threw my arms up, blew out a breath. "Un-fucking-believable! Seriously? You're gonna pull this whole holier than thou thing out your ass then? What was the point in calling me—"

"Listen."

"No. Just, no. Alright." Tired. Suddenly I was very tired, too tired. I was running my hand along my face, turning away from him. He said something, but I was too pissed to make out what. Fingers, his tiny fingers, were wrapping around my arm. "No, Rox. I'm done. Don't know why I even came out here—"

"Listen to me!"

It was hard not to. When he wanted to be heard, he was heard. And the blonde wasn't one for tears; no, he didn't cry. But I could tell when he was about to break, and he looked ready to snap right then. So I calmed myself, stared at him. He never let me go.

"I was telling you _why_ I've had such a hard time…being with you. I was telling you why I've been acting the way I do. I don't _believe_ in being gay, Axel."

"Then what the hell do you think you are, a fucking fairy princess?"

"Axel, feeling the way I do about you and feeling the way I do about God don't line up for me. It might not matter to you, but it's a big thing for me."

"So what are you saying?"

"I'm saying… I'm saying I have to pick one or the other, or I'm going to keep feeling trapped."

I eyed him expectantly. He bit his bottom lip, tightened his grip on my arm.

"So…I'm picking you."

I didn't say anything for a while. Then: "For good?"

"For good."

"You're giving this a try? No backing out, no changing your mind last minute?"

"If you'll let me."

There was no good reason to. I'd messed up, he'd messed up. Hell, we'd both messed up so many times that it was pointless trying to make anything work anymore. It wasn't worth it. We fought too much, butt heads too much, pissed each other off too much. He was still very much a kid trying to act like a man, and I was still very much a man who acted like a kid. He had no idea just how ecstatic and furious he had made me in a matter of minutes, how numb and smitten I felt right then. Or maybe he did. Going back on what I'd told him before would be a mistake, I could feel that.

Somehow I managed to push all of that out of my mind and bent down to kiss him anyway. This time he didn't hesitate in kissing me back.


	5. Animal

**Roxas; Here We Go Again**

_What _is_ a gay lifestyle? No one ever seems to give a straight answer, though I've always wondered… Is there no plain definition? Can it mean what I want it to mean? And what _do_ I want it to mean? Just because you don't live a gay lifestyle, does that mean you can't still be gay?_

_I don't get it._

_I'm in the living room, thinking about it, paying attention to this old episode of True Life at the same time. Trying to. Minutes ago I was flipping through channels, but the moment I catch sight of the episode's title I my finger freezes over the 'channel' button: __**I Want to be Straight.**_

_And I end up watching the intro, thinking on the narrator's words, on the title, on…_

"…_have they really changed, or are they simply in denial?"_

_Why can't I make myself change the channel? Why am I so transfixed? These are strangers, random strangers, with their own problems. Not my problems. Not like me. I'm not like them. I know what I am, but I'm not trying to change it. Just hide it._

Isn't that the same kind of problem, though?

_Hmph._

_Melanie and Kevin._

"_These desires will always be here." Melanie_

"_Nothing's ever easy. That's what I'm finding…" Kevin._

_Kevin's…kind of cute._

_I end up watching most of the show. It cuts to another commercial after a while, showing a short preview of a scene further ahead. Melanie and her lady friend. They're pressed close to each other at a party, laughing, grinning. They look…they look so happy together, so good together. I can't help thinking that; they do. People deserve that, but… And Melanie leans in to her friend and asks with such an innocent charm, "Am I making you hot?"_

"_That's disgusting," a voice says simply from behind, snapping me out of my thoughts._

_I look back to see Grams shuffling through the front door, Ma behind her. They're still wearing their coats even though they clearly just got out of the cold drizzle of the autumn evening. When, exactly, they came home I'm not sure. But the old woman's eyes are trained on the television screen. A brief summary of Melanie's current love life is displayed in bold white letters._

_Grams shakes her head. "Can't teeter totter 'tween men and women. Either you're with one or the other, and if she's with women then God help her soul."_

_Ma doesn't say anything. Doesn't seem to care. She helps her mother out of her coat, shrugs off her own, heads for the stairs. Stalks off. I'm still silent, until Grams asks me why I'm watching it. She asks it innocently enough, but I still don't like the tone in her voice._

"_No reason."_

_I change the channel._

* * *

><p>We kissed for, maybe…seven minutes? Maybe longer, maybe shorter. I'm not sure. Just in that back alley, away from the world's probing and judging eyes. Just us alone, pressed against each other. Axel's lips were chapped, just a bit rough, and I kept lightly brushing my tongue against the bottom one with this mild fascination. The kiss wasn't candy sweet or anything, nothing like the first chaste kiss heard of and seen of only in romance novels and crappy chick flicks. It was wet, demanding, heated. Familiar, most of all. Every inch of the man's mouth, of him, was deliciously familiar.<p>

The way his tongue flicked this way and that against mine. The way his teeth would nibble my lips every few seconds. The way our mouths gave wet, somehow pleasant smacks whenever they parted and met again. The light nicotine and mocha taste of his breath—disgusting on some level, but right now I really didn't care. The way his fingers were digging into my hair, tilting my head back so he could get a better taste. Sometimes if felt like he was trying to suck out my soul, sometimes it felt like I was trying to suck out his, and other times we slowed our pace down to something… Well, tender. There was a lot loaded into this kiss.

There was forgiveness.

There was apology.

There was dominating hunger.

There was pent up anger.

And the rest was pure love.

Why would God be against something that felt so damn right?

* * *

><p>Two weeks prior to this, I was at basketball practice with Xion after school. She was the only girl on the team. If she hadn't begged, pleaded, and ultimately whopped our best center's ass in a one-on-one as a last attempt, Coach wouldn't have let her on the team. Ever since sophomore year she was the only exception to the otherwise all boy team. But moving on.<p>

We were still at practice despite the fact it was going on six and no one wanted to be stuck in the gym running drills for two hours on a damn _Friday_. We didn't even have a game coming up any time soon, but Coach was a douche that liked to torture us every week. Practice was coming to a close and the team was packing it up for the evening. Out of the eleven of us, only four guys hit the showers to change back into their school clothes. They had some movie they were trying to see around seven or something. _Fast 5_, I think. I only knew because they'd extended an invitation to Xion when Coach officially dismissed us, and she asked me if I wanted to go. My decision didn't even matter; she'd already told me that she was going regardless.

I suppose part of me should have been offended that she'd ditch me so easily, that they had only invited her and not the boyfriend. (Nothing against Chris and the others. But it seemed like a dick move.) I probably should've reminded her that her dad had already promised us a ride to her place and he'd definitely ask why the girl wasn't there if I went to the car by myself. Otherwise I wouldn't have bothered asking to visit for a bit and would've just walked home.

I didn't really care, though, so I told her I'd see her on Monday and headed for the exit. She must not have liked the short way I'd pulled my jacket on and pressed a brief kiss to her cheek, though, because she frowned and muttered something to the guys while I was walking away. Not long after she had her arm hooked around mine and we were walking away, still dressed out and sweaty, to the school entrance.

No words were exchanged at first. She just rested her head against my arm and let out a small breath. Then, the moment we made it out the door, she flicked blue eyes up at me. "You're mad."

"You could've gone to the movie if you wanted; I don't care."

"You're _mad_."

"No I'm not."

I really wasn't. Maybe just a little tired. Lately I was always tired around Xion. (Of her? With her?) Lately I just didn't have the energy to be around her. Lately meaning this past week.

I still couldn't shake my fight with Axel last Friday out of my mind.

I was still pissed at him, at myself. It's weird, because it was much more than the usual level of pissed. Normally I'd straight up ignore him for a couple of days before he gave me a call—because he always had an idea how many days it'd take for me to cool off, how many days he needed to wait before it was acceptable to contact me—and I'd keep talking to him like nothing happened, like we were friends again. But this was a mentally shut down, no talking to anyone for a whole week kind of pissed. This was a "don't think about it, keep so busy you_ can't_ think about it" kind of pissed.

And I still didn't have a clue what was going on with Sora. He wasn't even dressing up at home anymore…though the time he spent at his new job might have had something to do with that, but still.

"Whatever it is, I just wanna tell you that you think too much," Xion mumbled. We were sitting on the curb by the parking lot's main entrance at this point, enjoying the light chill of the November air. Her hair was coarse against my arm, tangled in certain places and uneven in others. Messy in a way that was completely fitting for her. She really was a cute girl.

Her fingers danced along my thigh, but I ended up clasping my hand around them before they could move any higher. Squeezed them a bit, lightly, before letting them go. "Mm. Maybe you don't think enough."

"Ugh, meanie." She smiled all the same, still leaning against me, and I couldn't help but give a small smile back and wrap my arm around her head. "Since my dad's picking us up… Maybe I could look up another showing time? We could still go to the movie, just us two. He can drop us off."

"Sounds good."

"Hey."

"Hm?"

A kiss. A very simple, very innocent kiss like many we had shared before. A whole year of dating, and yet it still took some getting used to, some restraint so I wouldn't flinch our pull back like my first instincts told me to. 'Cause it felt like cheating on some level. Even though I did love Xion—I did love her, right?—even though she was a sweet heart. It was stupid, but…

I couldn't have been more uncomfortable in my life.

* * *

><p>I didn't think I was a perfect Christian. I <em>knew<em> I wasn't. I didn't read the Bible on a regular basis like a good little church boy, but I knew the big scriptures. I only went to church every Sunday out of obligation, not because I genuinely enjoyed it. There was always this deep level of discomfort whenever I listened to our pastor—some sermons felt directly aimed at me. I didn't pay tithes, even though my only source of income was allowance. I prayed when it was convenient, but never out loud with other people, not unless someone else was leading the prayer.

I masturbated, unashamedly, like every other teenager. I cussed too much without really caring…unless I was around Ma or Grams. Especially Grams. I fucked around with Axel, even before this whole relationship ickiness started. A lot. Whenever, wherever. I told the occasional lie. (But who doesn't?) I snuck out late to wild parties, slipped into Dem's gigs for free (not so innocent, considering he played at a strip club), went drinking on the rare occasion Zex invited me and managed to sneak me some. I did all of this and didn't have much of a problem with it. I figured, as bad as I was, it could have been a lot worse. And it wasn't that I just didn't believe at all; I did, truly. I just loved doing whatever I wanted too much. I learned to not let it bother me after a while. It was weird.

Where I drew the line was with homosexuality. Or, should I say _my_ homosexuality?

I'd known for sure freshman year, not long after meeting Axel. _Because _of meeting Axel, of meeting Riku, of falling for them both. But for two very different reasons between the two. With Axel it was straight physical attraction. I realize how bad that sounds, but it started that way. Why else would we have bothered messing around at all? Always no strings attached. That was the agreement. Riku, though…was emotional attraction. Mainly. He was, and still is, a different kind of guy. It took me by surprise when he kissed me for the first time. That surprise grew when I found myself kissing back like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Then I'd punched him and didn't talk to him for a week.

Don't take me as preachy and melodramatic, because I fucking hate that. I _get_ what my problem is. I'm back and forth. I give mixed signals. I bite and I bite hard, especially when it's not necessary. I act like a hypocrite, and I'd be lying if I told you that seventy percent of the time I cared; I usually didn't.

But that fear's always there, hiding in the back of my mind. It was a fear instilled in me by Dad's beliefs, Ma's beliefs, Grams' beliefs. In God's eyes, people like me deserved death. Any sin deserved death, so why the hell did certain ones seem less bad than…? Why _this one_ in particular seem so bad to me? Because I was afraid for my immortal soul, of damnation, or some shit like that? And if it was so bad, then why was I made this way?

Grams had called it a demon once. A "demon spirit of homosexuality," she'd said. Like it was the Devil's work, like it was something you had to pray the hell out of and throw away accordingly. But I wasn't possessed by some demon and I wasn't making some conscious decision to be attracted to guys just to piss Jesus off.

I just was.

God makes all things the way he sees fit. If He hated gays so much, why would He make 'em? I still don't get that. Why would he make me this way? Why couldn't I be happy this way and still embrace Him at the same time? Did it have to seem like a death sentence, really? Did I really have to have these urges?

"The answer's simple, my dear," Riku had said jokingly one day, years ago. "Stop believing. Works for me."

Well, that wouldn't work for me. It might have seemed like a joke to him, to some people, but for me this was life or death. This was a big thing. I'd tried to quash those urges by asking Xion out sophomore year. Needless to say, Axel didn't take it too well. But, as a friend, he did like her.

"She's a cool chick I guess, Rox, but—"

"But what?"

He'd given me a long hard stare, pissed at the tone in my voice, and just sucked his teeth. "But nothing. Enjoy the straight life, asshole."

That was when his feelings for me first started to come out. That was around the time Riku and I started having problems before finally ending it.

"I respect the whole God thing and all, but I'm getting tired of it. You judge yourself too much. You're too hung up on religion, Blondie."

And maybe I was. Maybe I just needed to pick between the two—religion and love. The kind of love I wanted.

_But I should be able to be happy and have both._

* * *

><p>We didn't get out for Winter Break until Friday the twenty-third, because my school was evil. (How come Sora's got out two days earlier?) I invited Axel over to the house on Tuesday, mainly because the brunette wouldn't be home. And just for the hell of it. The red head hadn't been over in so long that it was weird for the first few minutes. Until he started cracking his jokes and playfully poking at me with his words. And I'd snip right back at him as always, like the past handful of months hadn't happened at all.<p>

It was still strange to me how easily we had fallen into this routine. After school I'd call, if he hadn't beaten me to the punch. He'd pick me up, we'd go somewhere for a bit. Or we'd chill at his place. Zex and Dem didn't seem all that surprised to see us together, officially—though I'm sure part of them was sure it wouldn't last.

(It would if I could help it.)

For the next four days after my little…confession, we'd been nothing but civil to each other. We talked. We laughed. We played. We'd fuck in the car. We'd kiss whenever we got the chance, whenever people weren't looking. I know it bugged him on some level, but for the most part he was enjoying the moment every bit as much as I was. He was happy with the baby steps, as few as they were.

But Sora.

The kitchen. Axel and I were at the table, talking about something. It's sad that I don't quite remember what, but the moment Sora walked into the room still in his work clothes I couldn't help but forget. It was the way he'd frozen in the doorway, stopping mid-hum—when was the last time he sounded so pleased?—and stared directly at Axel that made my mind grind to a halt.

I still had this amused grin on my face—whatever it was Axel had said, it had been funny—but I found the mood shifting far too quickly. Sora looked like he'd been hit by a truck. Then that expression changed to something frighteningly hard.

Axel wasn't smiling anymore.

I tried not to let it bother me, looked to my brother instead. "Hey."

He had already spun around to leave, but he stopped. Stood still for a few seconds before turning to face me. "What?"

"Grams called. She'll be over a little later tonight, so she's gonna need help with her bags."

"Okay."

Short and to the point, dismissive. I couldn't tear my eyes away from his face and… Sora was _angry_. Sora didn't get angry like this. What the hell? Again he turned to leave, but Axel had finally found his voice.

"So you're just gonna run off without saying hi?"

The brunette's tone got shorter. "I have homework."

"I thought you were out for the break?"

"It's work for the break."

"Where've you been hiding all day?"

"My _job_."

And why the hell wasn't Axel shutting up? I could see the subtle way he tensed up in his chair, the way he was leaning forward in it with arms crossed on the table. Like he was trying to play it off cool. I could see this weird…look in his eye. I couldn't place it. I was silent as the tension in the air grew. Then the man, trying to poke fun, looked back to me. "See, Rox. Sora's got a job."

"Shut up." A roll of the eyes. "I'm still looking."

"Didn't you say your mom gave you 'til last week?"

Like I didn't already have enough after school crap to deal with. Job searches were the farthest thing from my mind. Why the woman even bothered to make us apply was beyond me. I shook my head, hoping to change the subject. "You're jobless too, you butt munch…"

That would have been the end of that. The tension would have died, Axel would have stopped running his mouth, Sora would have slunk off upstairs, and we could all just pretend this awkward moment hadn't happened. Because right now seeing my sibling reminded me of the party, reminded me of my still dying anger at the red head, and I didn't want that right now…

"Where do you work now, anyway?"

_Axel, shut UP!_

It was too late, though. Sora had already snapped. "Don't worry about it. Why are you over here anyway?"

A strained expression. No more fake smiles. "I came to talk to Rox. We haven't seen each other in a while—"

"So you two are speaking again? Now you suddenly take an interest in each other?"

"Whoa." Couldn't take it anymore. I rose from my seat, eyes narrowed, palms pressed to the table. This had to do with the party. I knew that. The question was what had happened? Why the animosity? Why wouldn't they just fucking tell me? "Why the hell are you so snippy today?"

"I'm not."

"Yes you are. What's your problem?"

I could have worded that better. I could have, but I'd just snapped the first thing that came to mind, and now Sora was gripping his work apron tightly in a fist. Glaring. Looking like he wanted to say something. I _knew_ he had something to say. And he looked at Axel with a more intense expression, something I couldn't read or understand.

Something went unspoken between them that made Sora reel it all back in and grit out, "Nothing."

Then he was gone.

I was looking to Axel before long, searching his now reserved face. There was still anger in his eyes, along with… It looked like shame.

I waited a beat, voice quiet. "You need to tell me what the hell's going on with you two."

The man was already up and out of his seat, stalking towards the fridge. "Don't worry about it."

"Axel—"

"Don't _worry_ about it."

It was more of a threat than anything else, a threat that had me shutting up completely. And I realized then, it didn't matter if we were giving this our best shot. We still had problems.


	6. Pressure

**Author****'****s ****Note:** Just a short one for people who haven't noticed yet; I thought it'd be more convenient if I started listing chapter songs and their respective artists on my profile. Just in case you ever got curious. :3 And did you miss me? 'Cause I missed ya'll! And I missed writing this. It might not be as great as I want it to be, but I have damn fun working everything together, so I don't care.

Thanks as always for reading and being so patient.

* * *

><p><strong>Axel; It's Getting Closer Now<strong>

_"__Can __we__…__can __we, __like__…__do __it?__"_

"_I'm sorry, run that by me again."_

"_You heard me the first time."_

_That doesn't keep me from smirking and leaning casually against the side of my car. I ignore the way the silver metal lightly singes my skin—damn, it's getting hot out here—and cross my arms, simply staring at Roxas. He squirms some more on the spot. The pout never leaves his face as he snaps, "You know what, never mind."_

_He's about to leave until I let out a sigh and snatch onto his arm, holding him back. He turns back to face me, shoving hands in his pockets, but refuses to look back up at me. Still scowling. And it takes me a moment to realize that he's being dead serious. A wave of disbelief washes over me. "Really?"_

"_Y-yeah, really." His voice drops even lower than before. It's not like there's anyone lingering close enough to overhear, but he's still cautious. "Just…to see what it's like."_

"_Like a fling?"_

"_Yeah, I guess."_

"_Why me?"_

"_Better you than someone I don't trust, right?"_

_Do __my __ears __deceive __me? __Is __God__'__s __little __helper __actually __entertaining __the __thought __of __sleeping __with __me? _Me, _of __all __people? __A __damn __shame, __that__'__s __what __it __is. __Part __of __me __still __thinks __it__'__s __a __joke, __but __the __nervous __way __he__'__s __rocking __back __and __forth __on __his __heels __proves __otherwise. __I __just __reply __as __bluntly __as __possible._

"_You wanna fuck, no strings attached. Is that what you're telling me?"_

"_You make it sound dirty."_

"_Babe, only if you want it to be."_

_He looks even more beautiful when he blushes. "Can we or can't we?"_

_Then, whatever nervousness he has gives way to a determined kind of expectancy, and I can't keep the smirk from curving my lips once more. I should probably be worried about why he's so eager all of a sudden. I should probably be bothered by the fact that he has that silver haired boy toy of his to fuck with whenever he wants, so there is no point in asking me. (How long have they been dating? A damn month now?) I should probably be bothered by the fact that, in spite of all of this, he still claims he's straighter than a ruler._

_All thoughts are promptly pushed to the back of my mind as I wrap an arm around the blonde's shoulders and playfully whisper in his ear, "Thought you'd never ask."_

* * *

><p>"Fu—<em>fuuckAxel!"<em>

"Babe, shh."

"Give it to me. Hard, damn it."

There was no keeping Roxas quiet. He became a downright sex kitten when we fucked, and his foul mouth didn't help my self control any. Not that I had much control to begin with. The boy had all but stolen the show.

We had ended up at my place that Friday before Christmas Eve—somehow the blonde had not only forced me into picking him up after school, but convinced his mommy to let him stay the night for some innocent "catching up" with his best friend. How he managed it, I'm not entirely sure, but it didn't seem to matter when the blonde promptly fisted the collar of my shirt and yanked me down for a rough kiss the moment we got inside.

That one possessive act sent off a spark that had us fumbling to remove articles of clothing and wrestling for dominance on the living room couch. It wasn't long before the stink of sex filled the air. Rox was bare from the waist down and I from the waist up. My fly was undone, tugged down enough for viewing and stroking pleasure, and the blonde had wasted no time in settling himself comfortably on my arousal. He'd just slid himself down with the sexiest mix between a grunt and a moan I'd ever heard and started grinding himself against me.

Lucky Dem and Zex weren't here. Their poor, delicate eyes wouldn't be able to handle this much hotness at once.

"Harder…" Roxas' breath was fierce in my ear, his fingers clenched tight in my hair. "Axel, _harder_."

And the boy liked it rough.

I couldn't catch the chuckle that slipped out my mouth and leaned forward to nip his shoulder instead, causing his breath to hitch yet again. It made his already tight body clench even harder around me, made him wiggle those hips at a quicker pace that had me hissing and—_shit_. I bucked my hips into that heat, that tightness, making him bounce and pant. Curled my fingers around the sweating edges of his waist. Those fingers slowly traced their ways further up, pushing the flannel fabric of his shirt aside to get a feel for even more skin. Rubbed circles on his chest, pinched nipples.

Roxas kept riding me hard, threw his head back with a light groan. The muscles of his stomach, his chest, and hell, his balls tightened with each movement, flexed. Water blue eyes were narrowed, butterscotch hair was sticking out more wildly than usual, and lips were bruised pinkish red from previous kisses and nips. His mouth was wide open, and I took that moment to just plunge forward and kiss him again. It tasted like salt and sweetness and the faintest hint of my own arousal. I sucked on his tongue and he sucked back on mine, moaned his love in my mouth.

I felt his fingers move away from my hair, down to my neck. I noted the tingly feeling his dull nails gave me as he ran them along my shoulders. His whole body shuddered as I hit that spot, and again with a scream of pleasure when I hit the spot a second time. A third. Over and over, bringing us closer to the edge. Fingers dug into my arms. He was holding on so tightly it hurt, but I didn't care a damn. I growled in the back of my throat and gripped his hips right back. Increased the pace.

"Fuck me, Axel, _ah!_"

"You're too damn _loud_," my voice rasped, amused in spite of the situation. "You want the neighbors to hear?"

He answered with a sharp cry, releasing himself right on my stomach. With the face he made, it was impossible for me to last much longer. I rode it out with a low groan, letting my head fall back on the couch. The blonde waited a beat before blowing out a sigh and settling his head on my chest, hands still curled around my shoulders. We stayed like that for just a couple minutes before I quietly said, "Best. Christmas present. Ever."

"Shut up." He'd said it with love in his tone, though, so I simply smiled back.

It took a level of effort neither of us was really willing to exert to peel ourselves off of each other and stand to our feet. I glanced at my shirt, which had been slung over the coffee table, at Rox's jeans that had managed to find their ways beside a couple of magazines and the TV remote on the floor. The teen plucked up and replaced the batteries for the device, tossed the magazines back on the table, before grabbing his pants. He eyed them for a moment before examining his abused backside. Then he up looked at me accusingly. "I've got like a bucket load of jizz in my ass."

I smirked and gave said ass a lazy smack and squeeze. "Not my fault."

"The hell it isn't. Ugh." Blue eyes flicked towards the tell-tale spots of white staining the fabric of the couch and a little bit of the carpet. They weren't _that_ noticeable, but if you were really paying attention it would be hard not to question their origins. And knowing my roommates, it would only be a matter of time. Rox seemed to be thinking the same. "We should clean this up, huh?"

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders from behind, pressing a kiss to his earlobe. He fell back into the touch. My voice was a playful whisper. "Hey."

"Hm?"

"Let's take a shower."

"How 'bout a bath?"

"Then pizza?"

"Sounds like a plan."

So we grabbed our stuff and got to work. Roxas went to wipe off his ass as best he could, I pulled out the Febreze and Shout and a couple of rags, and we scrubbed away our naughtiness with this sense of solidarity and comfort. Then we spent a little more than an hour soaking in sudsy bath water playing footsies and penis tag. (It's a pleasant sport, especially when wet. I recommend every guy try it sometime.)

When we were clean, dry, and had everything concerning sex out of our system, we ordered two large pizzas. One pepperoni, one supreme. Then we settled back on the couch with the TV spewing some romantic comedy shit I'd never heard of before. _Moving __the __Distance_, or something like that. Roxas insisted we watch it, claiming that it was one of the best movies in the genre he'd ever seen. All I knew was that Drew Barrymore was in it and she was a pretty hot chick, so it couldn't have been half bad.

Demyx and the Panda Bear shuffled inside the apartment sometime around nine, tossing off their coats and scarves, snatching off boots. (Well, Dem tossed and snatched. Zex hung up and set aside his stuff neatly like the anal house maid he was.) The moment the musician caught sight of left over pizza sitting on the coffee table, he perked up and darted towards us. Roxas tried his hardest to grab the remaining slice of pepperoni, but Demyx beat him to the punch and stuffed a bite in his mouth with a smirk. "Score!"

"Asshole," Rox muttered, wrinkling his nose and picking up a stray pepperoni from the now empty box. Dem just rubbed it in further by squeezing in between us and happily munching on his prize. Well, at least we had some of the supreme left.

I snorted at the two of them, finishing off my own slice. It took me a moment to realize that Zex had yet to comment about our deteriorating health, on how we weren't helping in the slightest with daily amounts of pizza and other greasy foods—or something along those lines—and that he was still standing by the front door with this apprehensive look on his pale face. I glanced over my shoulder at him, mildly entertained by the way he was staring at me. "What?"

The man didn't say anything in response, just arched a brow, eyes scanning the couch with painful scrutiny. He looked at Rox, then back at me, frowning.

"Why are you staring at me like that?"

"You two had sex on the couch, didn't you," he asked simply.

I don't know why I doubted how sharp he was. My eyes narrowed amusedly at the sudden accusation. I looked to Roxas who simply shrugged and popped another pepperoni in his mouth, then glanced back at the Panda Bear. "What? Us? No, never."

"Wha—?" Realization settled into Dem's eyes. He looked from Roxas to me, then the couch cushion beneath him. "Ugh, dude! On the couch?"

"We cleaned up."

"_Gross!_" I swear, it looked like a mine had gone off underneath his ass. He hopped up with all the urgency of Speedy Gonzalez and made a gagging noise, darted for his room. "That's it! I'm never sitting on that thing again!"

Roxas and I just giggled uncontrollably, dying down only when we heard Demyx's door slam shut and subsequent thumping ensue from behind it. Zexion's disgust was clear on his face as he walked over and grabbed himself a slice of pizza. "You two are shameless."

That just earned another fit of giggles.

* * *

><p>Trina Sabota spent a good chunk of time on the phone with her son around midnight. She was fussing about how he was expected to be packed and ready to go when she came to pick him up first thing Saturday morning, that she had some last minute Christmas shopping she needed to take care of and he would have to tag along. She would have made Sora come too but, unlike a certain blonde, he had a part-time job to go to tomorrow. When Rox started complaining, she was quick to remind him that he was exceptionally lucky she agreed to let him spend time with a friend he had neglected for far too long—that said neglect was the <em>only<em> reason she was letting him stay the night, so that he could fix it. She also made sure to have him pass on a hello to Zex, Dem, and me before wishing her son good night and finally allowing him to get some shuteye.

The entire time I was sprawled out in my bed with my arms folded behind my head and my iPod settled on my bare stomach. MCR was blasting in my ears—I didn't care what my pop-loving friends had to say, I still enjoyed those mofos—when an exasperated Roxas wandered back into the room. He shut the door behind him, tossed his phone on his pile of clothing spilling out from his backpack. He stripped himself of his shirt and jeans, opting to sleep in his boxers for the night. I couldn't keep from watching every movement he made. I found myself turning my music down and taking a headphone out of my ear, craning my neck for a better look at him.

Was there something wrong with me for being so attracted to him? I mean, I'd long since accepted that these feelings were here to stay, but the question was whether or not they were okay. Maybe some wiring in my brain had malfunctioned at some point. Maybe I was some pedophile in denial. Forget the fact that he wasn't _that_ young—by my standards—and that he was the only minor I'd ever had thoughts of that way; he was still underage. His mother, heaven forbid she ever found out the truth about us, could easily have me locked up with a snap of the fingers. And that wasn't even the meat of it.

I still found it hard to believe that just a week ago we weren't even speaking. I had a hard time fully comprehending that, after so many months, years, we were actually an official couple. That he was _okay_ with being a couple. That, in spite of the shit we'd put each other through, he was willing to deal with the baggage. The whole situation left a gnawing feeling in my gut, a feeling I ignored as much as possible by just forgetting the how and why and going with the now. Rox being here, us getting along, us being happy…

It was weird.

Roxas was about to crawl underneath the sheets with me, but paused when he caught my gaze. "What? You're kinda intense right now."

"You're a beautiful kid, you know that?"

He blinked, taken aback by the sudden comment. The look on his face told me he wasn't sure how he should process it, so he settled for annoyed embarrassment and rolled his eyes at me, slipped into bed beside me. "Where the hell is that coming from?"

"Dunno," I answered honestly, wrapping an arm around him. He was so damn tiny, so thin, yet still finely muscled in the right places. A stud muffin in the making. He stole the lone headphone from my fingers and tucked it into his own ear before leaning into me. He wouldn't look me in the eye as he skimmed through my playlist, but I knew he could tell that I was still staring at him.

It took him a moment after selecting a new song to mutter, "Why are you staring at me like that? It's really creepy."

"Just happy, is all."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

I punctuated the response with a kiss he couldn't keep himself from smiling into. Felt right. Tiny fingers brushed against my cheek, rubbing circles there. Then he gave a lazy smile. "Mm, me too."

And we settled in bed like that, comfortable and listening to music. It was weird, but we were getting used the feel of each other all over again. The TV was still going on in the living room, but Zex had turned it down to a dull _zzz_ since we'd left. I could hear forceful footfalls that could only belong to Demyx pounding around in the kitchen, could hear him mutter something to Z before calling it a night. And save for the music playing at a low volume from my iPod, it became relatively quiet. I was content to just fall asleep like that.

'Til Rox decided to break the silence. "Axel?"

"Hm?" I asked without opening my eyes.

He shifted beside me. No, squirmed. A nervous fidget. When he didn't say anything right away, I cracked an eye open at him.

"What, Rox?"

"I was just thinking."

"…About?"

"You and Sora," he breathed after some lip biting.

I scowled.

And here's the thing about it, I really had no right to get angry whenever I heard mention of the brunette. If anything, I should've said something by now. But this anger at myself that somehow managed to morph into anger at him would bubble up inside of me, and I couldn't rein it in. This would be the third time in three days, since that incident in the kitchen, that he'd mentioned his twin. The third time he's tried to pry answers, explanations, out of me about what went down with Sora.

Why couldn't I just come right out and say it without snapping at him to drop it? Was it fear? What, exactly, was I afraid of? I couldn't forget the sound of hurt in Sora's voice that Wednesday either.

"_So you two are speaking again? Now you suddenly take an interest in each other?"_

Never before had I seen him so pissed. Maybe annoyed, maybe a little snippy, but never outright furious. The fact that that fury was aimed at me made it worse.

Roxas was examining my face the entire time these thoughts went through my head, shrinking back from my touch just a little bit. "Just…forget it. Forget I said anything."

"Why do you do shit like that?" I whispered.

He looked genuinely confused. "Do what?"

"You know what," I accused. "Something bothers you, so you don't let it go. You have at it and have at it until it drives people insane."

"You could very easily just fix everything right now and tell me what happened."

"I told you not to worry about it."

"I said I was gonna forget about it, didn't I?"

I popped out my remaining headphone and flicked it at him, rolled over so that he'd get a good view of my back. The angry sigh he blew out only served to annoy me further. He pressed a hand to mine, tugged at it. "Axel, just chill."

"Whatever."

"You're being a baby."

"G'night, Roxas."

Maybe it was the lack of sincerity in my voice. Maybe it was the way I shrugged out of his touch. Most likely it was the fact that I wasn't going to say squat about anything else that night, or tomorrow morning, or for the next few days. Whatever the case, the blonde rolled away in the opposite direction and curled up inside of himself with my iPod.

I might have imagined it, but I'm pretty sure he muttered, "What the fuck ever," before blasting up the volume.

* * *

><p>Trina was bright and early on Christmas Eve to pick up Roxas. I'm sure he would have bitched more about being forced to run holiday errands if he'd been in the mood, but he was quieter than usual when he hopped in the car with his mother. She didn't seem to notice, just thanked me for letting him stay the night. Didn't have the heart to tell her that I was glad she was dragging the little brat away for the day. I needed a break from him at the moment.<p>

A couple hours later I'd holed myself inside my room and lay back in bed. Dialed Mom's number.

She picked up on the first ring. "Hey, darlin'!"

I smiled, just briefly, happy to hear the familiar Irish lilt stream from her mouth. "Hey, Mom, how's it going?"

"Good, good. Jeez, how long it's been?"

"Couple months, I think."

"Even your father calls me more often, Axel. Christ." But she was laughing as she said it, so I could tell she wasn't too bothered by it. There was some shuffling in the background, a clinking of glassware. A woman's voice.

I squinted at the sound, cocked my head to the side. "Is that…Aunt Jillie?"

"As a matter of fact, it is. She decided to get off her fat arse this Christmas and pay me a visit. 'Bout tim— What, Jill? It's just Reno."

"Axel, Mom."

"Oh." It was impossible not to imagine the blush that was probably crossing her face right now. She tried to laugh it off, but I could hear the embarrassment in her feathery voice. "Well fuck me sideways. Sorry, doll. Two of you soun' the same."

That didn't change the fact that she had caller ID on her phone, that she'd had my number saved for years now, but I didn't mention that and just gave a chuckle in response. "He call you yet?"

"Reno? Nah, maybe couple weeks ago. Is he good? And Elena? She and the baby all good?"

"Lea's twelve now, Mom."

"Is he? Bloody hell. Since when?"

"Since August, woman. Jesus, is your memory _that_ bad?"

"You wait 'til you get to be my age, you won't be singin' the same tune."

We talked a bit, kept joking back and forth. I caught her up a bit on my school life, on what little I knew about Reno and Elena, on as much as possible about Lea. I told her about Demyx's everlasting stupidity when it came to the girls he banged, about Zex's unrelenting sarcasm. About how, as much as they both annoyed the piss out of me in equal measures, I still loved them both to pieces.

She told me how that one neighbor of hers, an Areole, was still dropping by every few days to check on her, almost like a nurse. She'd cook Mom dinner every so often, so she didn't complain too much. She told me how she got a new bird, Tweety II, since the first one passed. ("He even sings show tunes. It's cute.") She caught me up on the conversations she shared with Dad, few as they were. He was doing alright for himself. Even wished her a Merry Christmas. To be honest, I was surprised they were still on speaking terms to begin with, but I didn't push her too hard about it.

She seemed to be doing well. Sounded happy, sounded healthy. From what I could tell, she hadn't had an episode in a while, and her neighbor was making sure she kept up with her meds, let alone her life. I was grateful for that in ways she would never understand.

"Have a good Christmas, Mom," I told her.

"You take care of yourself, darlin'."

"You do the same."

"Yeah, yeah."

I hung up feeling a lot better.

* * *

><p>"Green," Demyx chimed.<p>

I quirked a brow at him. "Really?"

"She doesn't strike you as the green type?"

"Maybe lime… Nah, pink."

"How 'bout that one."

"Pink for sure."

"Lace?"

"Hell yeah."

Zexion trudged up to our table at that moment, dropping his book and cappuccino on the surface with a dull thud before plopping down beside me. His eyes followed my gaze to the pretty young thing sitting with her friend across the café, and he rolled his eyes at me. "Are you two playing that panty game again?"

"You wanna join?"

He scrunched up his nose. "Pass."

"It's not hard," Demyx tried to reason with him, but it was no use. When the Panda refused to say anything, he simply shrugged and stuffed another spoonful of orange smoothie in his mouth.

There was nothing wrong with my best pal and I having a little Christmas fun. We'd thought it would be a great idea to drag Zex out to Charla's for a bit of breakfast and coffee before we had to split ways. Dem was heading straight to his folk's place immediately afterwards, and Zex was going to spend some time with his sis Aqua later on, so we figured getting some holiday bonding out of the way wouldn't hurt. And while Zex had gone up to take care of his order, Dem and I fell into our age old routine of checking out random women and guessing what color underwear they were wearing. We never knew if we were right or not, but it didn't hurt to imagine.

Just then a skinny Minnie in thigh boots and a mint colored sweater dress that hugged curve upon curve bounced in with her boyfriend, immediately catching Dem's eye. "Thong."

I nodded, gaze drifting to her ass and, subsequently, her legs. "Definitely a thong."

"Red."

"Nah, man, _pink._"

"You always say pink."

"Keep it up," Zexion said, propping open his book. "No, really, you're a beacon of hope for the male species. Gives us all a good name."

"You'll be fine," I reassured him with a grin.

He muttered something about disappointment and guilty by association, but I didn't pay too much attention. It was nice, just sitting back and chilling for the day. It was even better knowing we didn't have to worry about the new semester until mid January, that we had a good month or so of slacking off ahead of us. A small voice in the back of my head wondered why Roxas hadn't been factored into the equation, but the voice was quickly smothered and shoved aside.

Demyx glanced at me expectantly, suddenly psyched about something. "So, what you get me?"

"Whaddya mean what I get you? I ain't get you squat."

"Axel!"

"I _told_ you I wasn't getting you anything. I'm on a budget."

"I thought you were joking!" If that pout of his couldn't pull at your heartstrings, then you were a cold son of a bitch. But I put on my best poker face all the same when he pulled out a small card—_hand__decorated_, now—with my name on it. "I went out and got you a present and everything, see."

I snatched it from his fingers, started peeling it open. "Well good for you. This better have money in it."

"It's a Visa gift card."

"Even better."

"I hardly find this fair," he all but whined, earning a laugh.

"I recall him telling you _not_ to get him anything as well," Zex decided to add, flipping a page in his book. "He specifically said, 'Don't bother giving me squat, 'cause I'm not returning the favor.'"

Demyx just eyed him in disbelief. "Nuh-uh."

"I totally did, man."

"I don't remember!"

"Tough cookies."

He rounded on the Panda. "Well, did _you_ get me anything?"

"My eternal love and friendship," was the monotone reply.

"And what's your excuse?"

"I'm cheap."

"Ya'll suck balls." He handed Zexion his gift card all the same.

"You'll get plenty of presents from Santa at home."

We spent a couple hours lazing around in the warmth of the café, adding to the dull chatter taking place between family and friends alike around the rest of the building. There was talk of Santa and his jolly fatness, of how much of a commercial rip-off Christmas had become over the years, of family antics that were sure to ensue. (At least as far as Dem was concerned.) There was faint mention of whether or not Aqua's rack grew and what color her panties would be, to which Zex gave a stern, "Shut the fuck up or I'll tell her exactly how you talk about her when she's not around."

We promptly shut the fuck up.

By the time we got up to leave, I got a text message from none other than Roxas. Sad as it was, part of me had expected him to ignore for a handful of days before contacting me again, but I welcomed the changed and flipped my cell open.

'**Wishing you a Merry Christmas…miss you too. Sorry about the other night.'**

I trailed absently behind Zex and Dem as we started down the sidewalk, typing back a response. **'****Missing ****u ****2. ****Thought ****u ****were ****pissed.****'**

'**I ****still ****kinda ****am,****'** was the response. I waited a beat, hoping that wasn't all he had to say, before another text chimed in. **'****But ****I ****really ****wanted ****to ****hear ****from ****you, ****so****… ****:P****'**

Strange how a smiley, both simple and complex in how much emotion it could express, could make me feel better about the tension between us. A smile curved my lips. **'****U ****wanna ****come ****over? ****D ****n****' ****Z ****r ****headin ****out ****for ****the ****night.****'**

'**Can't. We're doing family dinner crap. But maybe you can drop by Wednesday?'**

'**Why Wednesday?'**

'**Sora and Ma's got work and Grams should be gone by then.'**

'**So u wanna get dirteh with the peeps gone x3'**

'**Get your mind out the gutter. Ye or nay?'**

Maybe things weren't as bad as I thought they were. Maybe…maybe this would be a good opportunity to finally sit down and talk like I should have so long ago. It had to be a sign, right? Some prod from some slave of fate. A sign, definitely.

'**See u then.'  
><strong>

* * *

><p>Much to Roxas' surprise, his granny decided to stay a bit longer that Wednesday and probably wasn't going to head back home until the next day. Luckily, she was out running a few errands by the time I came over, and according to the blonde those few errands would turn into a full blown shopping spree that would keep her busy for hours.<p>

So we had the house to ourselves, save for the cat lazing around in the living room, but she wasn't too much of a people person. Just us. No mother, no granny, no… No Sora.

There was no keeping Sora off my mind. If Roxas noticed anything, he didn't say. In fact, he didn't mention anything about Friday other than wanting to spend the night again sometime, if his mother would let him. Every time I thought about bringing up the truth with Sora, I found I didn't know where to begin. My thoughts would jumble up. My voice wouldn't work. And Rox would just shoot me a funny look, would make some joke, then change the subject before it had even been mentioned.

"There are a couple of movies coming out soon," he told me as we wandered into the kitchen for a snack.

Pushing all thoughts of Sora to the back of my mind, I started raiding his fridge. "And?"

"_And_, maybe we should go see one. I kind of had one in mind."

"Which one?"

"Xion mentioned wanting to see _Source __Code_—"

"Xion?"

I don't want to call it jealousy. Because, even though I hadn't talked to her in ages, I loved Xion. The girl knew how to kick it, and she wasn't half bad. But the moment Roxas mentioned seeing a movie with her, something in me snapped. I can't put the feeling in words, but I didn't like it. It had me peering over the fridge door at Roxas as he hopped onto his counter and leaned back comfortably. The look on his face was downright innocent. "When's the last time the three of us have hung out?"

"Xion, Rox?" I repeated, because he obviously wasn't catching my point. "Xion asked you to the movies?"

"Oh shit." Realization settled on his pretty face and his eyes widened. "Shit, I totally haven't broken up with her yet. Holy shit…"

"You're just now realizing this?"

"I forgot."

"You…" How the hell did he _forget_? Hadn't we been going out for… Okay, so for like two weeks or so, but surely that was enough time for him to break it off properly, right? Unless, for some reason, he didn't want to…"You _are_ gonna break up with her, right?"

"Yeah!" He shot me a look that said he was offended, but I couldn't help but smirk back at him. "What do you take me for?"

"Just makin' sure. I never know with you."

"Axel."

I don't know what it was with Rox's voice, specifically when he said my name, but it had this control over me. I looked at him then, truly looked at him, amused by the pout poking his bottom lip out, by the "take me" expression lighting up in those cerulean pools, the way he was curving his body forward and lightly kicking his feet back and forth against the counter. I slipped the fridge shut, walked over to him. Leaned right into his face, a smile curving my lips. Apparently the grin was contagious, because it wasn't long before his lips curved upward as well.

We kissed like that. He wrapped his arms around my neck as I leaned in, pulled me closer as our lips went through a familiar tango, and as always we slipped our eyes shut, lost ourselves in the moment. As upset as I felt, I wouldn't change this. It was right, somehow. It had to be.

Finally our lips parted with a pleasant smack, and we just eyed each other quietly for a moment. Then Rox ran his hand along my cheek.

"Hurry up and get your snack. I don't want Grams to walk in on us."

* * *

><p>I couldn't be sure what possessed me to do it. Maybe I liked to torture myself. Maybe, in my own way, I was trying to get a head start on setting things right. Whatever the reason, I found myself giving Sora a call New Year's night. I'd driven myself near about insane thinking about what to say, whether or not I'd even get a chance to say anything. I was sure the brunette wouldn't pick up the phone.<p>

But he surprised me.

"Hello?"

I settled myself on the living room couch, swallowed. "Hey."

There was a painful pause, and I could have sworn I heard the boy stiffen at the very sound of my voice. "…What do you want?"

There was no point beating around the bush. I kept my tone as calm, as level, as possible as I replied, "Rox and I are going to the movies next Friday."

"The sixth?"

"Yeah. Xion too…" Why, still, I had no idea. "I wanted to know if you'd come with us."

"Roxas _and_ Xion?"

"He already made the date with her, so he invited me too."

"I bet that pisses you off," he shot back.

And I've got to say, I'd be a fool not to expect as much. I still couldn't get used to this level of animosity, not from Sora, but it wasn't like it wasn't deserved. It was the reason I called now, the reason I wanted to hear his voice again so badly. I felt _something_ for him, something I couldn't put in words, but something strong enough to keep me from not caring. I wanted to make this right, if only he'd let me.

I sighed, rubbed at the back of my neck. Lamely said, "Kinda, yeah."

Then an uncomfortable silence stretched between us, spreading us even further apart than I thought was possible. It was thick and pained. Eventually Sora sighed, his sweet voice soft. "What do you want from me, Axel?"

"I wanna know we're okay," I breathed after some thought. What little control I held over my voice cracked. That angry feeling, that sick feeling, it was crawling back, knotting itself in my stomach. I couldn't stand it. "Fucking _Christ,_ Sora, I want you to talk to me again."

"Well I don't want to talk to you."

"You're talking to me now, aren't ya?"

"Just so I can tell you that I don't want to talk to you anymore."

"What the hell did you expect, huh? We were drunk—"

"No." Such a forceful no. I could hear him shift, hear the slight hiss in the background that I assumed was his cat. His words were clipped. "We were buzzed. Not drunk, buzzed. You were sober enough to know what the hell you were doing and I was sober enough to say no. But I didn't. So here we are."

"You're—"

"And don't you _dare_ pin it on me! Okay? Don't you dare say I'm overreacting or some crap like that, because it's not fair! I cared first. I loved you first. _You_ kissed _me. __You_ came onto _me_, Axel. And that's not fair. It's not _fair_, Axel. You and Roxas. That's not fucking fair."

Silence, then. I had no words to say.

Had I…had _I_ really caused that much anger? That much pain? Had I really thought I could try and fix it with a half-assed apology and a free movie? Had I really just thoroughly, royally screwed up any chance at repairing our friendship by trying to imply that half of it had been Sora's fault? That it was just a drunken mishap?

_Moron, __moron,_ that small voice sang. All too happily, I noted. _You, __my __darlin__' __Axel, __are __a __moron._

After what felt like ages, Sora let out a final breath and said, "No. I don't want to go to the movies with you. You three have fun."

And because I didn't know what else to say, I said, "Whatever… Whatever, man."

"I'm not a man. And lose my number."

So that was it, then.

"Whatever."

Then I hung up.

_Moron._


	7. Talk To Me

**Roxas; I Ain't Gonna Force Ya, But Ya Gonna**

_I don't know where to start._

_It's one of the worst feelings any artist can experience. A painter, a musician, a poet, an author. What to draw, what kind of tune, what lyrics, what pace, what subject matter? What plot? What setting? Where should I start?_

_I don't know what to write._

_Dad always says the best remedy for writer's block is to keep writing anyway. He makes it sound, look, so easy. The man's got notebooks upon notebooks filled with random snippets of unfinished stories, poems, lists of names and places and foods, paragraphs of unused plots. If you don't know what to write, write anyway. His motto._

_But I really don't know what to write._

_What __always __makes __it __worse __is __the __fact __that __I _want _to __put __something __down __on __paper. __No, __I _need _to. __It__'__s __a __feeling __that__'__s __been __bugging __me __all __day __since __I __first __got __to __school. __Now __I__'__m __sitting __at __my __desk, __staring __at __a __blank __composition __notebook __page, __pen __hanging __lazily __in __my __fingers. __I __blow __out __a __rough __sigh __just __as __Dad __pokes __his __head __into __the __room._

_The man's got his messy scruff of blonde hair pulled back with one of Ma's yellow headbands. Why he insists on wearing them, and why Ma keeps letting him, I'm not sure; but it seems to suit him in a way I usually don't think is possible. It actually matches the loose fitting tee he's got on, save for the budding sweat stains. He pats the towel draped around his neck against his glistening face, shoots yellow-green eyes in my direction as he catches his breath. "Whatcha up to?"_

"_Nothing, really," I reply lamely, arching a brow at the man. "Were you jogging or something?"_

"_Just got back."_

"_Well you stink. I can smell you from here."_

_He takes that as an invitation to walk up to my desk and pull me into a headlock. Very much against my will, I'm faced with his armpit and his stink of the day, causing me to flail and punch him on the chest. He just laughs and mocks, "Can you smell me now?"_

_Only when I manage a solid thump against his stomach does he choke out a laugh mixed with a grunt and let me go._

"_Jesus, __are __you _trying _to __kill __me!__"_

"_I __don__'__t __smell _that _bad.__"_

"_Yeah, you do. __Take a shower," I fuss, to which he just chuckles. Then he's ruffling my hair—"Dad, knock it off."—and heading back out the way he came. I turn back to my desk, tapping my pen against the wood in frustration._

"_Rox."_

_I look back at the blonde once again, taking in the more serious expression on his sweaty face as he pauses in the middle of the doorway. And he simply replies, "Make a list."_

_I blink at him. "What?"_

"_If you're stuck." His finger points towards my notebook, wags a bit. "Just make a list."_

"_Of what?"_

"_Smelly stuff."_

_Then he turns and heads down the hall, whistling cheerfully as he goes._

_He makes it sound so simple. Like writing down a list of random stinky things is going to give way to some spark of creativity. Like it makes so much sense. Like it works for everyone. It seems like a waste of paper to me._

_But I start it anyway, in higher spirits._

* * *

><p>"I think Sora's home. Was his door closed earlier? His door wasn't closed."<p>

I sounded a lot calmer than I was. Axel and I, we'd just came from the kitchen, just came upstairs from a very heartfelt and heated kiss on the counter. Laughing, joking, heading for my room. The only reason I'd invited him over was because I didn't expect anyone home yet, not this early on a Wednesday. Ma would definitely be at work, Grams was buying groceries, and Sora had his part-time gig. He wouldn't have been home this early.

But his door was closed and I could have sworn I heard the faintest sound of music coming from inside.

Axel came up the stairs behind me, holding a small bowl of grapes in his hand. Popping yet another grape in his mouth, he glanced at the door curiously. "When'd he get in?"

"Dunno."

When. It was a good question. Another good question: had he seen anything?

That was my main concern as I carefully knocked on his door. The faint music just increased to a dull thrum as the brunette snappily replied, "Studying."

"Kay. Sorry." I didn't like the tone in his voice at all. I didn't like the feeling it gave me at all. But I turned from the door and headed for my own room, Axel following quietly behind. "Yeah, he's home."

Axel never said anything about it. Whatever good mood we'd been in or had worked ourselves into had been squashed by the fact that Sora was home much earlier than anticipated. The entire time the red head had been over I could tell there was something bothering him, something he wanted to come out and say. Something he couldn't quite make himself say. Somehow, I knew it had something to do with Sora. I knew it had to do with that night. I knew we needed to sit down and talk about it, but he never came out with anything and I wasn't about to try and force it out of him again just so we could end up fighting all over again.

Axel never said anything about it, and I decided not to push it. For now. That would be best, right? Just for the time being.

Sora gave me a small glimpse into the issue, though, later on that night long after Axel had left. Around the time Ma got back from work. She and Grams were downstairs talking about something. Out of boredom, I had picked up a book I'd started months ago and settled into my bed to pick back up where I left off. It was around that time that Sora came into my room.

I glanced at him, made a small sound of acknowledgement in the back of my throat. And he just stood there, closing the door behind him. Nothing was said for such a long time that it worried me, so I just tucked my bookmark inside the novel and sat up. "What do you want?"

"It's not fair to Xion, you know."

Xion? I got why he was bringing her up, but that didn't mean I had expected him to just throw it out there like that. My eyes narrowed confusedly, my head tilted to the side. I found myself setting my book down as I scowled at Sora. "What?"

"You and Axel."

"What about me and Axel?" Why the hell was I getting so defensive? Maybe it was the hard way he was staring at me now? Maybe it was the anger he was trying so hard but failing to mask in his voice? I couldn't be sure. Something about it scared me.

"How long have you two been dating?"

"We're not." Why was that my immediate response?

"I know you are. I came home earlier and saw him kissing you in the kitchen."

Crap on a stick. Crap, crap! I _knew_ it. Damn it, I knew it… I had to fight hard not to bite my lip. "Well, you saw wrong. We were just talking."

"If you're gay—"

"I'm not," I snapped.

_Bullshit._

Sora wasn't stupid, so I didn't know why I was blatantly lying. I don't know why hearing it out loud—hearing someone actually call me gay—riled me up so much. Hadn't I said I'd chosen? Hadn't I promised myself that I was over that aspect, that I accepted it?

_But you haven't, have you? You'll fuck a guy, suck his dick, say you love him, but you can't come out and actually say you're gay?_

Apparently, I couldn't.

No, my twin just gave me the longest stare imaginable before quietly sighing and shaking his head. "…I'm not gonna tell Ma."

"Good, 'cause there's nothing to tell."

That seemed to be the last straw. That one comment was enough to have the Devil fly into my brother's eyes for just a few seconds and then disappear. Just a handful of seconds. He looked like he wanted to rip me to shreds. Like he was tempted to kill me. But that wasn't what scared me, no, it was the look that followed immediately after.

Tearful.

He bit his bottom lip, was shaking just the slightest bit. That look on his face—I'd seen it before, on Axel's. It was the look he gave me, ages ago, when I told him I never wanted to speak to him again. Pure pain, like he was about to break. No, like he was already broken…

Sora looked like he was going to say something else, but he kept it in. I frowned. "What?"

No, he just shook his head and turned to leave. That look on his face… I hopped off the bed, suddenly frantic, and caught up with him. Grabbed his arm just before he could disappear through his door, pulled him to face me. I'd be lying if I told you I wasn't concerned. I'd be lying if I told you that something didn't click then. "Sora, wait— What were you about to say?"

Everything made sense when I caught sight of the tear running down his cheek. I loosened my grip out of surprise, blinking. His voice was little more than a whisper. "He deserves someone who'll openly love him."

_Someone __like __you__…_ "D…do _you_ like him?"

He didn't have to answer. Instead he yanked his arm free, took a step back into his room, and slammed the door in my face.

* * *

><p>Xion was going to kill me. She'd make it look like an accident, maybe, but she would make it happen all the same. Or worse. She wouldn't kill me, but she'd torture me. Make my life a living hell. Maybe turn what few "friends" I had now against me. Maybe she'd…<p>

Maybe she'd cry. Oh man, that would be worse than anything. How had it not crossed my mind to break things off with her in the first place? How come I hadn't thought about it until now? I'd been so caught up in Axel, Axel, Axel, that I hadn't realized that I was still essentially "dating" two people at the same time.

Not again.

So, with an ever growing sense of dread, I had challenged Xion to a one-on-one match after school on Thursday. In actuality, I needed a reason to talk to her in private, but if I came right out and said that she'd probably get worked up. Not that it made the situation any better, but still. We met up at the basketball court at the YMCA just blocks away, played for a bit. And when she'd won at ten points to eight—I was distracted—we slowed it down and started passing the ball around absently as I went over our plans for next week.

"So, I was thinking we could try the movies next Friday," I told her, bouncing the ball against the backboard, catching it just to bounce it back.

She hopped in front of me and snatched the ball away before it could reach my fingers, slyly dribbling it away. "Sounds good to me."

"And I talked to Axel… He said he'd be interested in going."

She stopped, turned to stare at me curiously. "Axel?"

"Yeah. We're…kinda talking again, I guess."

"That's great!" She was holding the ball still in her arms now, rocking on the heels of her feet with this chirpy expression on her face. I don't know why, but the smile she sent me in response made me upset. Of course I wouldn't let it show, but that damn smile never left her face. "What's it been, like six months? Maybe longer. I didn't know you two were keeping in touch."

"Just recently," I corrected, stuffing my thumbs in my pockets. The girl's footsteps sounded behind me on the moist pavement as I walked towards the bleachers, towards the jackets we had carelessly thrown on them before our game. Ignoring the cold, I settled on top of my jacket and blew out a breath. "So you don't mind if he tags along?"

Xion shook her head, stuffing the basketball in my lap before shrugging her jacket on and taking a seat. "Not at all. It's better than you guys fighting. I don't even remember why you two started that mess in the first place."

"He didn't say anything to you?"

"Not really. Neither did you. You guys just…" Here she paused, blue eyes peering up at me sheepishly. "You just stopped talking to each other. It was sudden, to the say the least."

"The reason for that is…" It felt like so long ago, when I thought about it. I mean, it was, but at the same time if felt like it was just days, weeks. Really, we hadn't even made this "truce"—for lack of a better word—that long ago. And here I was about to cut off everything with Xion for some broken relationship that I still, even now, wasn't sure was going to work out.

Sora's words from last night cut into my thoughts.

_It's not fair to Xion, you know._

_He deserves someone who'll openly love him._

What was I about to do? What was I doing now?

"Huh?" Xion's worried voice brought me back to reality, causing me to blink.

_Now __or __never, __Roxas._"I need to talk to you about something."

"What is it?"

"There was a reason Axel and I just stopped talking. A reason that has to do with us."

"You and me...?"

"Dating."

"You don't mean…" She thought on it a moment, coming up with the reason why far quicker than I had imagined. She ended up clapping both hands onto her knees, staring at me with wide eyes. "Oh my gosh."

"Xion—"

"Don't tell me he was jealous? And you never told me."

"It's not an easy thing to just come out and say—"

"So why did you ask me out in the first place if you knew how Axel felt?" She demanded in a tone that had me gripping the ball and inching away. "I mean… Jeez. And he never said anything about liking me either. If I had known—"

"Wait, what?"

"That's the reason why you guys stopped hanging out, right? Axel had a thing for me or something, and you asked me out while knowing that?" This look of…well, it couldn't be described as anything other than innocence. It was innocence that filled her face as she spoke. Even as she fussed at me this air of trust was present. "Man, that sounds pretty conceited, huh? But I'm right, aren't I?"

She really thought… She thought Axel had been jealous of _me_? She thought he'd liked _her_ freshman year, not me? This entire time I'd been freaking out, thinking she had jumped to the proper conclusion, that she had figured out just why I'd been spending more time with the red head as of late. The fact that she just didn't get it was somehow highly amusing to me. Before I could help it, I was burying my face in my hands and shaking with laughter.

"What? What's so funny?"

"Nothing, just…" I'd needed a moment to catch my breath, to wipe at my face and look to her again. This wasn't going to work. Not like this. Maybe later, but not now. I couldn't explain it, but any plan I had to break up with her died right then and I spewed the first thing that came to mind. "You're right, is all. Axel was jealous."

"That's not even right, Rox. How could you do that to your best friend? I mean, that's gotta be against the bro code or something."

I let out a snort. "Bro code?"

"Yeah, like the girl code just with bros. You _don__'__t_ date your BF's crush. It's almost as bad as dating their ex. It's the unspoken rule." She dug her elbow into my side, eliciting a sharp groan. That didn't keep her from chuckling, though. "Man, all this time you two were having a falling out over a chick? And not just any chick, but me? I barely count as a girl!"

I couldn't help but grin at that. If only for a moment. "So, what, you wanna break up?"

"No. I mean, I love you too much." It had been an immediate no. And love? She was throwing _love_ around? Because that was making me feel shit tons better about myself. "But… I mean, Axel doesn't still like me or anything, does he?"

"No, no. He's…over all of that."

"If I had known you both liked me, then I would've just stayed single," she said as if it was the most logical explanation in the world.

I rolled my eyes at her. "Really, now?"

"Do you know how jacked up friendships become over love triangles? It's stupid! We all should've just sworn ourselves to singlehood to save trouble. I blame you." She was smiling as she said it, though. I just shook my head at her.

"Weirdo… It's fine now, though."

"And you and Axel made up?"

"Yeah, I guess you can say that."

"Then I'm looking forward to Friday."

At least one of us was. Those words stuck with me for the rest of the day, well into the next. Every time I kept going over the conversation in my head, I mentally kicked myself. I'd had the perfect opportunity to tell her the truth. The question was why hadn't I taken it?

"You're an asshole, that's why," Zexion had told me that evening. It was one of the rare instances where I'd called him for some kind of insight, and (rarer, still) an instance where he was actually willing to throw in his two cents. "You're more worried about her finding out that you're gay than her finding out that you've been cheating on her for two years, so you choked and caved in at the last minute."

With my phone snuggly secured beside my ear, I started shuffling through papers in my calc folder. "And that makes me an asshole?"

"More or less."

"And Axel and I have only been going out for two weeks now," I corrected, causing the man to let out what sounded like a laugh.

"You two might not realize, but you both have basically had an on-again, off-again relationship since junior year. Well, our junior year. You're both just too stupid to even see it."

"Well thanks."

"You know I speak nothing but truth."

Unfortunately, he was right. I didn't admit it out loud, though, just gave an indignant huff and went on with organizing my notes. It was a moment before he broke the silence and spoke again.

"So, what are you going to tell Axel?"

"Right…" I tossed an old worksheet aside on my bed, rolled my eyes. "Because that's gonna go over so well."

"You can't not tell him. Unless you're gonna sit down and talk with Xion properly."

"I will, just—"

"When?"

I paused, shrugged. Shuffled some more papers. "Dunno."

"You're shooting yourself in the foot."

"You aren't going to say anything to him, are you?"

"I'm not the one fucking him." If you didn't know him, you'd probably take the rough tone in his voice seriously, but years of getting barraged by his dry humor and verbal abuse had me realize he was just poking fun.

That didn't keep the slight panic out of my voice. "Seriously, Z."

"I won't," he said with a sigh. "But you need to. That, or you need to give Xion a call right now. He'll find out one way or another that you're putting it off, and that's either going to piss him off or convince him you don't think he's worth it."

"I don't think that."

"Then you would have proved it to him ages ago."

It was the way he'd said it… Not a joking vibe this time, but more of an accusatory one. Still friendly in its intentions, but it hurt all the same. He'd said it so simply, so matter-of-fact, that it had me coming to a halt and staring at the space in front of me absently. It wasn't even worth wondering if he'd meant it, because I knew he did. But.

Did I really seem that cold when it came to Axel?

As if sensing my discomfort, Zexion made a small noise. "I really gotta go now, Rox. I promised Aqua I'd pick her up."

"Yeah… Yeah, go. I'll call you later."

"No hard feelings, Roxas."

"I know." I really did. It was as he said; he only spoke the truth. It wasn't my fault that he was calling it as he saw it, even if it did sting a little. But he was right. And, because it was Zexion, I knew he was only telling me all of this because he cared about Axel and me. With that in mind, I gave a small smile and said, "Later. And thanks."

"Someone's gotta set you morons straight. Later."

* * *

><p>It happened on a Friday, December thirty-first, not long before the New Year would be ushered in by people around the globe. I was locked up in my room at the moment, because Sora was locked in his and Ma was watching TV in hers. A lack luster New Year's, I know, but that's not the point. Riku had sent me a text.<p>

I really couldn't tell you why he still had my number. To be honest, I couldn't tell you why I still had his, either. Maybe it was our stubbornness towards truly let ourselves forget, stubbornness on both parts. Maybe it was a sign from God that, as much as I hated him now, I'd never fully be rid of him. Not in my heart, not in my mind, not in person. Riku had texted me. And when I read the words, something in me went on full alert.

'**Found out u had a brother.'**

I didn't know what to think. I was tempted to ignore it, but… How had he found out about Sora? No one knew about Sora but a few old friends. Just Hayner, Pence, Olette; it wasn't like I talked to them anymore, and it wasn't like Riku had met them at any point. The only other person was Axel, and I knew for a fact that he hadn't said word to anyone. _Especially_ not Riku. There was no way… Unless someone else had found out? Had spilled? But who, why?

_Why are you freaking out so much? All he said was he found out you had a brother. That doesn't mean he knows._

Right. Right, that was right. There was no way he could know…

Curiosity got the better of me, though.

'**And…?'**

Part of me felt like I was being strung along. The text was bait, and I was biting hard. Hook, line, and sinker. Just wondering why he had texted me in the first place, just imagining the smug grin on his face as he read my reply, had anxiety washing all over me. Maybe this was nothing. Maybe he was just truly shocked to find out I had a sibling. Considering how long we had gone out years ago, that wouldn't be surprising. Or maybe—

His response was quick. **'****Met ****him. ****U ****2 ****r ****complete ****opposites.****'**

They'd met? Why did that piss me off? Why hadn't Sora said anything?

_And why would he have to?_

Yeah, but…

'**And?****'** I was punching the buttons on my phone now. Anxiety was turning into mild panic. And then:

'**Is he a tranny?'**

Fuck.

Him.

Fuck him.

Fuck his whore mother.

Fuck his absentee father.

Fuck any and everyone he claimed to love and care about.

Who the flaming fucking _hell_ did he think he was? What kind of drug was he on where he thought he could say anything about Sora? What kind of twisted was he to think that he could get away with something like that, to think that I wouldn't be offended? Like he knew shit. Like he had a single _clue _about my brother, about what kind of person he was. Like he understood a damn fucking thing, that demon spawn. My brother. _My _brother—he wasn't going to talk shit behind MY brother's back and get away with it. It didn't matter how messed up our relationship was, he was still family. And Sora.

Sora needed to know.

This had just confirmed my fears, had proven that Riku really was the low down, trash talking asshole I had assumed he was after our breakup. Bastard. He had no right to know Sora, to even speak his name.

Sora needed to know. I didn't have a single clue what kind of relationship they had. Had they just recently met? Was it, like… Had they just passed each other, or had they actually sat down at talked? Had they actually started hanging out? What did Sora think about him, huh? God, I hoped they weren't friends. I hoped, prayed, Sora didn't think this bastard was his friend because that would just be all kinds of messed up. He needed to know just what kind of "friend" this guy was. He needed to know. I _refused_ to let him get hurt again the way that—

The way that Axel had hurt him.

I sagged against my wall, sank to the floor with my phone still gripped in front of me. The text, the word "tranny," were etched into my brain. I found I couldn't tear my eyes away, but it was the red head that flooded my mind now. It was Axel's words and the sound of Sora's crying that filled my ears at that moment.

_Don__'__t __worry __about __it, __Roxas._ That's all it ever came down to. A "don't worry about it" and a cold shoulder. But how could I not? How could I _not_ worry about it when he still wouldn't tell me what had happened, what he'd done? I had a clue now, but I needed to hear it from him. On top of that, how could I even be with him when I knew he had hurt Sora? When I _knew_ that being with him was hurting Sora now…

That had to be it. Payback. Karma. God's will. Whatever you wanted to call it. I was stabbing my own brother in the back by being with Axel and blatantly denying it to his face, so some twist of fate was stabbing me in the back by bringing Riku into his life. Riku, someone who would only hurt the brunette more. Because Sora was too trusting and open when it came to friendship and love.

I didn't know what to do.

So, fingers slightly shaking, I sent Riku the only thing I could think of before shutting my phone off.

'**Go fuck urself'**

* * *

><p>I made a list that night. I was furious, tired, amped up and ready to do something but no idea what. So I figured writing, and since I didn't have a solid idea what to write, I made a list. I made a list of things I needed to say out loud, to various people.<p>

_I want to break up._

_I'm gay._

_I want the truth._

_I'm tired of it all._

_I'm tired of you._

_I never forgot you._

_I love you._

_I miss you._

_I'm sorry._


	8. Hot n' Cold

**Author's Note:** So it's been four months. Hella late update, but, you know. Reasons. (I really do love you guys. Sorry for making you wait.) And for the record, to those who're curious, this chapter currently lines up time-wise with chapters 6-8 of _He Gets It_.

* * *

><p><strong>Axel; You're Yes, Then You're No<strong>

_He's by his fucking locker again. Every time I look at him, I can't help but think just how much of a pest the boy's become over the past month. Always slinking around with the blonde behind the scenes, stealing kisses when he thought no one was looking, taking up the blonde's time that could have been spent with his so called girlfriend—or, better yet, me. They try to keep it discrete, but I see enough. Rox acts different. All the last minute canceled plans, the excuses that "I've got something to do," and this little charade he's got going on—like I wouldn't notice his little boy toy. Wouldn't bother me as much if he actually came right out and said it, you know? Worst part is, I've never met this silver haired pest face to face. Roxas makes sure of that._

_But, today, he's not so careful._

_The Pest's by his locker._

_I slow down my stroll the moment I catch sight of them, letting other students push through down the narrow hallway. Rox is piling books in his locker, and the Pest is leaning against mine with his back turned to me, arms crossed. And he sweeps silver bangs from his face. I'm close enough to hear him ask, "How's this weekend sound?"_

"_I already told you, I've got practice," Rox says with a shake of the head, picking out his Bio book._

"_Monday."_

"_Can't. Church function—"_

"_Tuesday."_

"_Riku."_

"_Wednesday."_

"_Maybe." He's on the verge of laughing now, the kind of laughter that goes all the way up to the eyes, but he cocks his head to the side as he closes his locker and sees me standing just feet away. All hints of humor leaves his face the moment I cross my arms across my chest, and that smile—how often does he do that lately?—fizzles._

_The Pest seems to notice, his whole body stiffening just the slightest bit, and he blows out a breath. He gives me the briefest of glances over his shoulder, then pushes himself away from my locker. "Look, I gotta get to class, okay? Seriously, think about Wednesday."_

_If he's offended by the sudden change in mood, he doesn't say. No, instead the boy yet again shakes silver hair from his eyes and gives Roxas a meaningful look before heading off in the other direction. He brushes his fingers against Rox's, but they linger for just a second longer than I expect. A substitute for the kiss he knew he couldn't give and that the blonde wouldn't allow. It was clear in his eyes. "Later."_

_He almost sings the word. Then he's stalking off. I wait just seconds after he turns a corner down the crowded hall._

"_Friend of yours?" I ask as lightly as possible, spinning in my combination. But, being Roxas, he can pick up the hint of malice in my tone. "Or should I say, your hot little date?"_

_He slams his locker shut. "No."_

"_Hey, I ain't mad at ya. He's cute."_

"_He's just a guy in my English class."_

_Not necessarily a lie, but full of shit all the same. Honestly, I don't know why I even bother anymore or why he bothers, for that matter. It's beyond aggravating. I try to play it cool, though. "More than just some guy, apparently. It's fine if you're dating him, but I'm sure your girlfriend would cry if she—"_

"_Say one fucking word to Xion." He snaps it with such venom in his tone that I actually flinch. Those blue eyes are narrowed; that voice, so low, almost a growl. "I dare you."_

"_Calm your tits."_

"_I mean it."_

"_You're all bark, Short Stuff," I say back, calmly. I toss whatever crap I don't need into my locker, slamming it closed and adding, "But you've got no bite. Trust me, I know."_

_He opens his mouth to say something else, but the bell rings and cuts him off. By then I'm already gone._

* * *

><p>I hadn't seen or talked to Xion since…well, since my senior year in high school, really. Roughly two years, and half of it spent trying to push her as far from my mind as possible. (Because, really, how did you come out and tell one of your closest friends you'd been banging her boyfriend on and off through most of the school year?) So dropping by her place to pick her up for the movies on Friday was nerve wracking, to say the least.<p>

To be honest, I was surprised she even wanted to come out with me and Rox in the first place. I mean, I know she had originally made the plans with Roxas—nothing like being a third wheel—but I half expected her to back out last minute after finding out the truth about just _how _friendly the blonde and I had been these past few weeks. The fact that she seemed so happy to see me when she opened up that front door, and the way she just lit up at the idea of finally getting some alone time with friends—"I mean, _finally_, Axel. It's been way too long and I've missed you."—just didn't sit right with me.

Roxas' strained attitude didn't help that feeling any. I mean, the kid was good at putting on a show; it's not like he was sulking or anything when we swung by his place. He smiled, he laughed, and he joked with me and Xion in turn just like old times as if nothing had changed. But I could see the underlying tension in his eyes, in the way he carried himself that night. Something was bothering him. Maybe it was Sora. Maybe it was me. Hell, maybe he just wasn't in the mood. Whatever the reason was, it really, _really_ didn't sit right with me.

I tried not to think about it too much.

We got to the movies way too early, not really caring in the long run, and chose second row seats near the front of the theater. I'd settled myself on the edge seat, perfectly content to lean back and kick my feet up on the chair in front of me with an arm settled around Roxas. Xion had managed to weasel the popcorn from him and took to tossing the pieces into the air and catching them in her mouth. Taking it as a challenge, I opened my mouth wide and leaned out; laughing she started tossing popcorn my way. That's when Rox seemed to relax, sinking down in his chair and chastising us for wasting perfectly good food. Xi and I had kindly blown him simultaneous raspberries.

I'm not gonna lie; it brought back memories of goofing around at the lunch table and getting together at the last minute after school to screw around who knew where for who knew how long. In spite of the whole awkwardness I was feeling—because, really, Xion seemed far too cool about this situation for someone who'd just been dumped—this was fun.

Things started going south after the movie.

The moment we'd gotten up to shuffle out of the theater, I spotted him. There was no reason for me to be so surprised, really, but the feeling sprung up in me all the same and I found my heart doing flip flops at the sight of him.

"_No. I don't want to go to the movies with you. You three have fun."_

_Then why are you here?_ I wanted to walk up and ask him, but he didn't seem to see me. No, he was with his own little group of friends now. Two girls I swear I'd seen before, a red head and a blonde holding hands, and—

Was that the Pest?

Not far behind Sora, silver hair and all, the Pest was trailing after. Somehow their group had ended up in front of us, caught in a mix of other people, but they seemed to stick out so clearly to me. I'd wanted to say something, to call out to Sora, to say something to that Pest; but it was Roxas, further ahead of Xion and me, that voiced my thoughts for me. He had turned to wait for the two of us to catch up to him, but he caught the look in my eye. He hadn't realized until he'd accidently bumped into his ex just who it was I was staring so intently at.

The surprise was clear in his voice. "Riku… What the hell?"

And that Pest had simply smirked, gave him a "fuck you" with his finger, and went to catch up to his group of oblivious friends.

Xion was quick to touch Rox's shoulder, leaning into him with a concerned look. "You know that guy?"

_More than know_, I almost said. Almost. I bit the response back, tucking both hands in my pockets instead and taking in the unreadable expression on the blonde's face as we continued to walk. All he could do was shake his head and mutter, "It's nothing."

Oh, but that was just the start.

By the end of it all, that uncomfortable feeling had come back. As much as I tried to hide it, it just wouldn't sit. (What _was_ it?) It followed me on the drive back. Since her house was closer, we dropped off Xion first. I drove up and let the car idle in her driveway. With a snap of her seatbelt, the girl kissed two of her fingers then pressed those fingers to my forehead. She beamed, and there was no holding my laughter back. "Thanks again, Axel."

"Later, munchkin."

"Night, Rox." Here she leaned towards Roxas and planted a very real, very loving kiss on the blonde's lips. "Love you."

He'd stiffened at the contact just the slightest bit, but tried his damndest not to let his discomfort show. "L…later."

If she noticed, she didn't say anything. Instead she shot the both of us one last smile then hopped out of the car.

We were quiet, long after she'd disappeared into the house.

She'd kissed him. She'd kissed him. Just a goodnight kiss, just a simple and innocent kiss, but…

I didn't say a single word and simply put the car in reverse.

I could feel Roxas' gaze burning into my skin the entire drive back to his place, but he was just as silent. Hell, I couldn't even hear him breathing. So we just sat in silence as I navigated through the darkened streets, eventually pulling up to the curb outside his house. I parked, letting the car run, waiting. My elbow had settled against the window and my fingers were gently knitting themselves through my hair on their own accord, and I just sucked my bottom lip in annoyance before working up the ability to speak. The level tone in my voice surprised me. "What the fuck was that?"

The entire time Rox had just sat there, not even bothering to unbuckle his seatbelt or look at me. "Axel, before you freak out—"

"No, what the fuck _was_ that?" The calm shook, and I was twisting in my seat to face him now with this painful curtain of rage draping itself around me. "Seriously? I thought you two split up."

"Not yet. I tried, alright, but… Every time I try to bring it up I just… I haven't found the right opportunity yet."

How he managed to sound so composed was beyond me. At least he had the decency to look guilty about it. He waited for some kind of response that I didn't give. Frowned.

"But I'm going to."

Still, no response. I just snorted, shook my head. My eyes were flicking every which way, anywhere but at him.

"Axel."

You know when you get mad—_really _mad—everything just gets hot? Your face heats up and your palms get warm and you get this tightness in your chest that pulls and pulls at you until you want to throw up or scream. I felt myself clenching and unclenching my hand in a fist, trying my best to calm down.

Roxas was pleading at this point. "Axel, say something."

"It's late. I need to go."

"Aren't you at least going to—"

"Get out."

I couldn't have said it any softer, any quietly, but the way he reacted made it seem like a punch in the gut. He actually flinched, and something like fear entered his eyes. Of my or for me, I wasn't sure. He didn't move for a moment. Then, somehow, he snapped out of himself and let out a defeated sigh. I stared straight ahead as the boy slid out from the passenger's seat, jaw locked tight.

All I could think about was that damned kiss. Xion's smile. How fucking _clueless_ she was—and how the hell did I not notice earlier? Why else would she have been in such high spirits? She didn't even know. And he had the gall to say he hadn't found the right opportunity yet?

There were a multitude of things I could have said to him then, things I held back.

Mentally berating myself, I called out to him before he could walk too far. "Hey."

He turned to face me, but by then he'd already put his wall up with that cool expression on his face, an edge in his voice. Whatever it was he wanted to say he didn't, simply standing there expectantly.

"G'night."

"Night," was his curt reply.

"C'mere." He didn't. In fact, he looked downright indignant, like giving in would be some great affront to nature or something. It made me feel exhausted. In spite of the situation, I was sucking my teeth impatiently and gesturing for him to get back in the car. "Damn it, Roxas, just come here and kiss me."

It was reluctant. It was brief. It was sloppy and bitterly done—but, just for a moment, it had melted to something tender. For a moment, he was pressed tightly against me with his cheek on my chest and his hot fingers wrapped around my neck. Then, slowly, he let go.

"Tomorrow," I muttered quietly once he pulled back.

No explanation was needed; he picked up on what I was asking him. "Okay."

"Promise me, Rox. You can't be with her and me. You picked one already. Promise."

"Okay," he repeated, features softening.

I didn't want to hear "okay;" I wanted to hear the words "I promise" come out of his mouth. Because right now that was the only kind of reassurance that would make me feel just a little better. It was the only thing that would take away some of this anger. This hurt. That was the only thing that would show me, in that moment, that he actually gave as much of a damn about this whole thing as he claimed he did.

But it was the best I was gonna get out of him, and I settled with that.

* * *

><p>Zex was still hanging around the living room when I stomped back into the apartment, typing something. An email, it looked like, but for what I couldn't say. I didn't really care at the moment. He glanced over at me from the couch the moment I slammed the door shut behind me, steely blue eyes curious. "How'd the movie go?"<p>

"Fine," was my short response.

Whatever he had been prepared to say next was held back and he fell silent, watching me carefully. I peeled off my coat and scarf, flung them aside on our pitiful excuse for a dining table beside the door. With a frustrated huff I was kicking off my boots as well, just looking at any and everything but Zex and his knowing stare. After a moment, with what I could only describe as some kind of tender understanding in his voice, he asked, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Nothin' at all. Never been better, in fact. I'm peachy fucking keen."

"You and Roxas had a fight." It wasn't a question.

"Sure," I admitted, snapped, before heading for the kitchen. The anger I had managed so well to bury earlier was bubbling back up again, clouding my senses. That tight feeling in my throat was back, but I didn't try to swallow it down this time. Just threw an arm into the air as I stormed past my roommate. "Look, Z, as much as I love your psycho analytical mumbo jumbo shit, I'm _really _not in the mood right now. So just, please— Fuck, _fuck_ my _LIFE!_ Who drank the last beer?"

"Who do you think?"

It was a stupid question, really, because I knew Zex wouldn't have left my hanging like that. Especially since he didn't like the cheap shit we usually brought home. No, he liked the stronger stuff. Had to have been Dem. And I would've remembered downing the last fucking can, but—_damn it_, I really wasn't in the mood for this right now. All I could do was lean against the fridge door, drag a free hand down the length of my face as a groan slipped from my lips. And after a handful of minutes just standing there with the fridge light shining dimly against my clothes, I slammed the door shut and sighed. "Where is that ass wipe?"

"He had a…date." Zexion said it simply, still examining my face. Whatever concentration he had focused on his email had died, and his brows knit themselves close together in concern. He slipped his laptop closed when I didn't more or say anything. "Look, if you want, we can go out and get something."

"No. Just no, okay, just—" I needed something. Something that'd burn going down, something that'd knock me flat off my ass for the rest of the night. Something to get rid of this damned knot in the pit of my stomach, in my chest and—shit, just why the hell did I feel like this? Why? Why was I getting so worked up over this? Why did this boy _do _this to me? "Just fuck it. I don't care. I'll drink his fuckin' Pepsi. I don't care."

"Axel."

I rounded on him with a glare. "What?"

"Sit down and talk to me."

"I'm not in the—"

"I wasn't asking."

And he just stared. I stared back. I stood there and stared him down, that unrelenting man with half his face hidden by hair. He swept some back to get a better look at me, leaning back on the couch with this "I know what's best" expression on his face and his arms spread wide on either side of him, inviting.

I wasn't gonna win this.

"Whatever." I gave in because I didn't know what else to say, what else to do. I was tired and pissed, and the last thing I wanted to do was sit there and spill my guts to him over something that shouldn't have been as complicated as it was. But I gave in anyway, shaking my head over and over again, voice shakier than I would've liked. "Whatever, man."

"What happned?"

So I told him. Every angry little thought that had gone through my head on my way back home, from the moment Xion had laid her lips on Roxas' as if it was the most natural thing in the world. The way the boy had tried to play it off, like it shouldn't bother me, like I shouldn't have been offended. Zexion didn't even bother to fuss as he usually did when I lit a cigarette halfway through my story and plopped down beside him. By the time I'd finished everything, the tension was thick in the air. He had a look of concentration on his face, digesting the story. Then:

"Has it ever occurred to you," he asked, "that you center so much of your life around this one kid that it borders on the pathetic?"

I'd only stared at him in more frustrated silence before saying, "Fuck you."

"You're only mad because I'm right."

"Look, I have a life, alright?"

"Yeah," he agreed, picking at his nails with the slightest of smirks gracing his lips. "And its name is Roxas."

"This is supposed to be making me feel better?"

"I'm just saying he pisses you off more often than not, Axel. And you just let him."

"So what," I snapped, throwing my arms up in the air. "I should stone him to death for his unfaithful ways? Or maybe a good flogging's in order? Or maybe I could set his pants on fire."

"Whatever floats your boat."

"Ha fucking ha." One thing I absolutely despised and adored about Zexion was his ability to make you feel like complete crap in the most deadpanned of ways, and yet make it slightly humorous at the same time. Like, he just seemed so removed from all the drama going on in other people's lives—like he had a built-in shit deflector bestowed upon him on birth or something, making him the best person to turn to if you wanted a good down-to-earth talking to. Or something.

I sagged against the sofa, blowing out yet another lazy puff of smoke and staring at some lone dust speck drifting in front of me. After a moment, he quietly added, "I actually talked to him about this whole thing last week."

My head snapped in his direction. "You knew?"

"He said he'd take care of it before now." He said it innocently enough, shrugged, but could obviously sense the anger bubbling back up in the back of my throat. "I see that didn't go as planned."

"So he's fine telling you this shit, but he can't drop me a line and fill me in? No? I'm not good enough for that. Christ, this kid is so…"

"Yes," he said simply.

"He just…"

"Yeah, I know."

"I just wanna—_ugh!_" I stubbed out the rest of my cig on the coffee table—Zex choked back a whine and swatted at my fingers, but the damage was already done—no longer giving a fuck. I flicked the stub onto the table before plopping back, draping an arm over my eyes and giving the loudest groan of anguish I could muster. "This fucking kid."

"But you love him."

I didn't say anything. Zexion prodded.

"Well?"

"I'm not gonna dignify that with an answer, 'cause then you'll come back with some other smartassery I'm not drunk enough to handle just yet."

"Wanna go somewhere, then?"

"You askin' me out, sweet thing?" I muttered softly, in spite of myself.

He was already getting up and gathering his stuff together in a pile, from the sounds of it. "Just so you'll stop bitching."

"Then take me far, far away. I'm yours."

* * *

><p>"Can we talk?"<p>

No one likes to hear those words. They usually led down the wrong road, the one filled with late night arguments and heated insults. Surprisingly, thought, they had come out of my mouth that Saturday. Roxas and I were out, too bored to just stick round at home but clueless about where else to spend our evening, so we dropped by a McDonalds. Up until this point he'd been giving his Big Mac the staring showdown of the century, and I'd been watching him while lazily popping fries in my mouth.

Taking another small bite, he glanced up at me. "About?"

"Xion…and us, I guess." The look on his face was enough to tell me that no progress had been made in that particular area, but I pushed through my annoyance and continued. "I just wanna know if this is gonna stick. I mean, is this gonna end up being another on-again off-again thing?"

"We're together, Axel. That's what matters."

"Yeah, and look how that's turned out before."

All focus on eating was abandoned, and he set his sandwich back down in its box. "Are you having second thoughts?"

I dragged a fry across my cheeseburger wrapper, not quite meeting his eye and feeling downright _vulnerable _in ways I'd never imagined before. "No, just…"

I didn't know how to say—or rather, want to say—just how much this whole situation scared the shit out of me. This made no damn sense. Until last night, everything had been just a level under sunshine and rainbows and fucking lollipops for us. We'd been enjoying ourselves, getting along, just relishing being _together_ and okay with it—but was he really okay with it? Was I an idiot for giving this yet another shot?

Was this worth it?

During my silence he had been reading my face, tapping his fingers against the table. Then: "Look, if it's about the Xion thing, then it's okay. The whole situation was entirely my fault from the get go, so you don't need to feel bad about that."

"'Cause that makes it better."

"What's done is done, Axel. I'm just worried about…"

Here we went again. Subject change. The Roxas way. "What happened with me and Sora."

"I know you're tired of me saying it, and I know now's probably not the best time for me to be butting my nose in it, but after this whole thing with Riku…"

And what the hell about Riku? What did he have to do with _anything_? They'd had their moment, hadn't they? He was finished with that chapter in his life, wasn't he? It was all I could do to keep from raising my voice too high. "Why does _he _matter? Just because he's your ex? Because he happened to be with Sora?"

"Because it's Sora and Riku is Riku."

Like that made any sense. He said it like it was all the explanation I needed, though, and that just pissed me off. He paused for just a second before deciding what he had to say might as well be said. "Don't get mad at me for this, because it's the truth. You've hurt Sora bad, Axel. I know you know that, but you just didn't see it like I did. And this whole thing with Riku… I don't know how they found each other or why they're hanging out, but it bothers me. I just don't want Sora to get hurt again."

"You can't assume, though," I said. "Maybe it won't end the same. Maybe he'll…treat him better than I did. I mean, you two seemed to click…"

"Before I found out just how much of an asshole he is. Look at this."

He was pulling out his phone before I could get another word in, flipping it open to some text and holding it up to me. Arching a slender brow I took it, reading. Riku. _Why_ was he talking to Riku? But I read what was on the screen, re-reading when it didn't quite click.

'**Is he a tranny?'**

A new anger washed over me. "He's talking about Sora?"

"Exactly." Rox clenched his jaw, closing the box on what was left of his Big Mac and abandoning it completely. "Maybe I am a little hung up and maybe I am too concerned with this, but with good reason."

"Obviously."

"I'm being serious," he snapped, taking my tone for sarcasm. "I _know _Riku, Axel. He's the kind of guy who'll let you down, and let you down hard. Sora's sensitive enough as it is. Mixing them together isn't going to end well."

"But you can't _do _anything about it, Rox, that's the thing. You can't tell Sora who to hang with just because you don't like it. I'll say it again; he's stronger than you give him credit for."

He blew out a huff. "You don't get it."

"No, I don't." I eyeballed the text a little longer, running my fingers along the screen. How had we gone from us to this? Why did it matter? Why…? Maybe that was it? It was always going to tie back to me and Sora and what happened that night, whether I liked it or not. The longer I held onto that truth, the longer it would tear me apart from the inside—and the more Roxas would resent this whole situation. God, maybe that was it? I frowned at his phone, glancing at Riku's name. "Why do you still have his number anyway?"

He blinked at me before carefully asking, "Why does it matter?"

"Just curious."

"I never got around to deleting it."

Bull. I scowled and popped another fry in my mouth. "Huh."

"It's not like that."

"Uh-huh."

"Jeez, Ax, it's not—" He didn't finish the sentence, holding out his hand instead. "Just give it."

I didn't so much hand him the phone back, but threw it at him. I watched him snap his phone shut but not quite put away for a brief moment, wondering just what in the hell was going on in that little head of his. Seriously, just what was it that drove him to do the things he did, say the things he said? And why was it he had this uncanny ability to take me from helplessly adoring him to wanting to rip his head off in three seconds flat? The moment he flicked those cool blue eyes up at me before rolling them and letting out a rough sigh was the last straw for me. "If you're gonna be a little bitch about this, why don't I just take you home now?"

"Yeah, do that."

"Fine."

He hadn't even skipped a beat. Whatever. He wanted to get pissy when he damn well brought the whole subject up in the first place, when he knew this whole thing was still a hot topic for us—whatever. I didn't have the patience for it today. Crumpling up my sandwich wrapper and getting up from the seat, I started heading for the exit without even looking back at him. I didn't have to look to know he was following behind me at a trudge; I could hear him dragging his feet.

Fine.

* * *

><p>Let me tell you about Lea. As much as people liked to believe, he wasn't much of a people person. Kept mostly to himself, did his own thing. He had friends, and it wasn't like he didn't hang with them from time to time—but anything outside of school and sports functions wasn't really his thing. I didn't necessarily count it as a bad thing—he seemed happy enough—but a little odd.<p>

But this one friend of his.

I wasn't sure how or where the two had met. Honestly, it didn't really matter. The way they interacted, the closeness that was so obvious between them—it was nice to see, but at the same time…

After much pleading and schmoozing, Lea had convinced me to drive him by his friend's place on Sunday. I wasn't even sure you could call it his place. The building he stayed at was a boarding house of sorts, wedged on a dirty street corner between a deli and some third rate thrift shop. This time of night, most of the residents were holed up in their own rooms doing whatever it was they did. We'd had to let ourselves in, quietly heading up the stairs and down the narrow hall that made me feel like a freakin' midget.

This place always gave me the creeps. I couldn't explain it, but I always left feeling dirty. Lea didn't seem bothered at all. On the contrary, he was excited to knock his little knuckles against his friend's squeaky door, ready to show off the goodies he'd brought in an old Walmart bag. Just some snacks and some things he'd brought with him beforehand.

The red head was all smiles when the door opened up with a rusty groan. "Yo, man!"

In a tone that reminded me so painfully much of Zexion, the golden eyed boy before us replied, "Why the hell are you here?"

"Screw you, Isa," Lea said cheerfully, launching himself forward and slinging and arm around the boy's shoulders. He held up the bag and wagged it a bit. "Anyway, brought that game."

"Choice." God, even the lazy way the corners of his mouth curved up reminded me of Z. Even happy he looked tired. Always, this boy looked tired. I stood silent and separate from the two of them, watching with feigned disinterest. I couldn't help but give the boy a quick glance over, taking in the baggy navy T-shirt that wasn't his, the pajama pants just barely hanging onto his thin hips, and bruise-like mark on his neck. Lea must have noticed it too, 'cause he lifted his fingers as if he was going to touch it—just for a second—then stopped himself when his friend pulled away.

Taking the bag, Isa glanced up at me. I'd yet to move from my spot in the hallway. "You can come in."

"It's fine. We're not staying long." Lea had started to protest but stopped when he caught the look on my face.

"Yeah," he sighed sadly, turning back to his friend. "Just wanted to drop that off. But next time, co-op for sure."

Isa grinned. "I'm holding you to that."

What sounded like a snore—maybe a bear was snarling somewhere in that dimly lit room—cut into the moment and caused the three of us to stiffen. It was followed by a mumble, from a man it sounded. Then the boy sighed, looking back at the source of the sound. "You two should probably go."

"Bye, Isa." Lea meant it casually enough, just a parting message between friends; but the way he said, coupled with the meaningful look he'd given his solemn eyed friend, was just downright adorable. And a bit heart breaking.

Isa gave a half-hearted wave before closing the door. "Bye."

The reunion had been short lived, but Lea would have to settle for it for the time being. We were silent heading back out, climbing into the car. Even on the drive back the boy didn't say much, obviously not pleased.

Eventually I asked, "Lea, what exactly goes on with that kid?"

"I dunno. He doesn't…tell me much, really." He shrugged, sank down in his seat. "But he takes care of himself."

"He's thirteen."

"He takes care of himself," he repeated firmly. "He's got a place to stay, he's got clothes to wear and food to eat. He's got his own money."

"Doesn't go to school. Doesn't have a job, far as I can see. No friends."

The boy narrowed his eyes. "He's got me."

"I mean, what does he do with himself all day?" I continued as if he hadn't spoken, which just made him suck his teeth angrily.

"Can we drop it?"

"I really think you should tell your dad, Lea. Your mom. Someone. They can get the kid some help."

"He's fine, Axel. Just drop it."

He didn't seem fine, though. No, I'd seen that look too many times in Lea, in Reno, in Elena. Myself. It left a sour taste in my mouth, because he seemed to need _something_ that he didn't want to get for himself, that Lea didn't want to get for him.

But I dropped it.

* * *

><p>Monday found me taking my sweet time through traffic after classes to pick up my golden haired head sore once his practice was done with. At least, I had expected to meet him outside the school, but I was left waiting in the parking lot for a good twenty minutes before I figured he wasn't gonna show. Maybe something had come up or he was purposefully screwing with me—he'd texted me to give him a ride home after all—but at that point I didn't care. I was about to just head home when I heard a sharp knock on my window.<p>

Some sweaty girl, fresh from practice, clutching a basketball to her hip and gripping her bag in the other. It took a moment for it to register who it was. Xion.

A pissed Xion.

This would go well.

Playing it cool, I rolled down my window and gave her the most charming smile I could muster. "Hey."

"Don't hey me."

"Pissy much?"

"Get out the car."

"You gonna give me a beat down, Sugar?" I was laughing it off, but that tone of hers was downright terrifying. I swear, she could sense it because her mouth curved into this half smirk, almost sadistic.

"You and me. First to ten points. Right now."

I glanced at the basketball nestled underneath her arm. "Right now?"

"Right. Now."

Like I was really gonna argue.

I switched the car off and followed the small bundle of fury to the basketball court, which was luckily close by. She'd tossed her bag aside, dribbled the ball a couple of times before passing it quickly to me. I passed it back, putting on my game face. Then we were off.

I'll tell you now, it wasn't a close game. Sure, I had height on my side, but that girl was _fast_. Speed was a whole other monster entirely. I got my layups in when I could, but she was much too quick for me to snatch the ball back enough to give me a lead. Maybe it was the fact that I hadn't actually played a serious game in years, or maybe it was the fact that she was channeling pent up anger—maybe it was both. Whichever it was, she ended up being the victor at the end of it. Not that I minded much.

Doubled over in over exaggerated pain, I wheezed. "Damn, girl."

"That's what I thought," she panted smugly, smiling in spite of herself.

The two of us collapsed on the bleachers, catching our breath and staring out towards the parking lot in silence. I could tell her attitude was still there, but it had died down immensely. Tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, I asked, "Still steamed?"

She thought a moment. Shrugged. "Less. Sorry, I just…"

"Yeah, I know how that goes."

"You never told me."

And now we had to get serious. I didn't say anything. She went on, suddenly solemn.

"About you and Roxas. You never told me."

_So he actually went and did it. _At least, I could assume as much, if the look on the girl's face was any clue. I sighed. "Should've… But—"

"No buts."

"_But_," I continued, ignoring her comment, "in my defense he did say he had broken things off with you before we got involved." So it was a bit of a white lie. Technically, I had just assumed they had ended things, but that didn't change much either way. Right?

"I don't care that you two are together." The statement caught me off guard. Suddenly those wide eyes were turned on me, searching. "I care that you knew he was gay and never said anything."

Oh. "Well…"

"You knew before he asked me out, right?"

"It wasn't entirely my place to say anything, you know? I mean he's—"

"Don't pull the friend card." Somehow she had guessed where I was taking the conversation and started gritting out her words, balling up her fists. "Just don't. Okay? 'Cause I'm your friend too. Yeah, we don't talk so much nowadays, but come on. A warning? A heads up? Nothing?"

"Can you honestly say that, if I had told you back then, the boy you'd been crushing on so painfully hard was gay—or not as into you as he let on—you would have believed me?"

She opened her mouth to say something, closed it. Opened her mouth again, but closed it a second time. Her brows were knit in thought, frustrated thought. Then, slowly, she admitted, "No."

"Well, there you go."

She looked away. "Still… Still, I'm just… I get that it can't work with us, Axel. I don't like it, but I get it. You like who you like, and for Roxas that happens to be you."

She looked back up at me then, holding back tears. And damn it, I couldn't handle seeing that. But she went on. "That wouldn't have been an issue if he hadn't asked me out in the first place. If you had said something. If _he_ had said something. Because you can't just play with people's feelings like that. I don't know much about love, but I'm pretty sure what I feel for Rox is more than just like. It's been like that for years, and now I suddenly find out I was just some fallback girl for him to use to prove his straightness? No. I'm not gonna play that.

"I love you, Axel. You're my friend. If it has to be someone else, then I'm glad it's you and not some random sleaze. But you and Rox hurt me, and I'm not cool with that. Be together if you want, break up if you want; I don't care either way. But I'm not cool with either of you right now. I just wanted you to know that."

My throat was dry. My chest felt tight. I couldn't think of anything else to say, so I just settled on the first thing that came to mind lamely. "Message received."

She was getting up, wiping her eyes with her arm, and gathering her things. Without even looking at me she started walking off. "Good."

Fuck.


End file.
